


From The Sky

by fromtheskytoyou



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 1989, Canon Compliant, F/F, F/M, Gen, Mostly Canon Compliant, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:55:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 28
Words: 114,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27840346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fromtheskytoyou/pseuds/fromtheskytoyou
Summary: Sometimes, I wonder, where I come from, and why did I come?A character outside of Harry's perspective experiences the world he walks through, in ways that mirror his experience but also highly differ. What would someone who isn't destined to destroy Voldemort think about the ways in which the wizarding world comes crashing down around them? And with their own unlikely circumstances, how does every event change and bend itself?
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I'm deliberately vague about the plot of this, because I don't think it's as fun to spoil everything before you read - also, I can't give you any really useful information about this without spoiling a lot of things. So you'll have to take the plunge. 
> 
> For those of you who are here before December 9th, 2020, the first two REAL chapters will arrive on that date. For now, enjoy the extremely vague and short prologue
> 
> For those of you who are here after that date, enjoy what's there so far! I update with two chapters every Wednesday (unless specified later on).
> 
> See end notes for reflections, and head to my instagram - @fromthesky.toyou - to see some teasers I've posted in the past (and if you want to ask me questions that you might not get an answer to, because I'm vague)

_ The wind whistled but the day was clear and bright, although cold for November. A young woman stood outside, wrapped in a long, deep blue cloak. She looked tired and wary, glancing from the upper window of her house to a spot a few feet in front of her. She seemed to be waiting for something, even if it wasn’t clear exactly what, and was torn between watching the house and watching the surroundings. _

_ When he appeared, it was from nowhere. She did not flinch, and looked at him without much curiosity. She seemed to know him quite well, though not necessarily warmly. She did not smile, or call his name, or raise her hand in greeting, though some mutual communication seemed to pass between them, an acknowledgement of the other and who they were. Despite this understanding, a certain barrier existed between them. Whilst they both looked exhausted, and worn, and while they might have been suffering the same, there was something that meant they could never connect, and it hung in the air, unsure of whether it came from her, or him, or both. _

_ “You look older.” She told him. _

_ “Yes, that happens, with time.” There was little sarcasm in his voice, he seemed to be drained of it.  _

_ “That’s not what I meant.” She drew in a breath, in annoyance. “You’ve been worrying.” _

_ “Haven't we all?” He raised a challenging eyebrow. “I am sure that if I seemed at the peak of health, you would have chastised me for that too.” _

_ “I didn’t think you ever worried about anything. You’ve never given the impression of caring.” She gave away what she was talking about as she glanced once again at the upper window.  _

_ A very cold smile flashed across his tired face. “I cannot imagine how nice it must be, not to worry.” _

_ “Yes.” And the two seemed united for the first time. “I imagine it is bliss.” _


	2. Aforementioned Bliss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here are the first *actual* chapters. I wrote these about four months ago, so it was quite fun to go back and edit them as well as add comments on the author note version. I'm aware that, right now, things aren't very... exciting. This is an introductory phase, indeed I think the first couple of chapters will be that way, so I'd say just go with it for now, because I promise that things will heat up as we progress!

"You look just like your mother!"

These words were not uncommon for Haneul to hear often. Even at the tender age of eleven she could barely think of someone who, upon meeting her for the first time, had not told her how similar she looked to her mother. It did get rather tiresome, and also rather annoying, because Haneul didn't quite agree with these people. She had inherited many of her looks from her mother - they shared skin tone, eye shape, jawline, hair color, but she didn't find herself ever really considering herself to be the spitting image of her mother.

Perhaps, she reflected, people, such as Hestia Jones in this present moment, only said these kinds of things because there was only one person that she could look anything like. Or maybe, because she had only been raised by her mother, Haneul was alike in personality too, and therefore the resemblance often pointed out was not merely physical. Well, except for times like these, when the exclamation came after the viewing of a photo that Haneul's mother had taken of her only the week before, in her old uniform that she would wear a newer version of to Hogwarts come September.

"Really, Minjeong, you two look so alike. I still have a picture of us from our first year, you look the same in that." Hestia continued, a grin on her face. "Only difference is that you're not wearing any blue, but I suppose that'll come with time. I can't see you anywhere except Ravenclaw."

This was yet another common observation by others. Haneul assumed that most people were in the same house as their family, or at least hoped it was a common occurrence. She too, could not imagine herself anywhere else except the bright and airy tower common room which she had heard so many times about from her mother's reminiscence about her own time at Hogwarts. Truthfully, the only family Haneul could identify with was her mother, so any other path felt wrong and strange.

That was the way it had always been, for as long as Haneul could remember, and according to Minjeong, longer than she could remember. Brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, grandparents, had always been foreign concepts to her. For Haneul, her family was her mother. According to Minjeong, Haneul should go along with the assumption that she didn't have a father, because he had never wanted anything to do with either of them. The topic was not often spoken about, and seeing as she had nothing to miss, and none of the complex emotions that would make her wonder if there was something wrong with her because of her elusive father's absence, it did not really ever bother Haneul very much.

"You'll find your brothers and sisters at Hogwarts. So many friendships made there are made for life." Was a common phrase Minjeong liked to throw around, either by way of comforting Haneul, or maybe herself. 

Once again Haneul's age was rather a hindrance to her knowledge, as she was not fully aware of her mother's story and life before she had come into existence. All she did know was that her grandparents, whom she had never met, had sent their daughter to England from South Korea to be educated, and that Minjeong had not returned to Korea after falling pregnant, and deciding that she preferred to live in a country where she didn't have to marry and live as a housewife, and could instead work and raise her child 'without a patriarch getting in the way'.

So for eleven years, Haneul's world had been small enough to stay within the street that she lived on. Her mother's family lived far away in Korea, and the whole street, Rowena Way, was a wizarding street, and so she had never needed to go far to find other children to spend time with. All the children who lived there, and a few who lived elsewhere but near, went to a sort of makeshift school, run by a nice lady called Mrs. Eaglebrow. She told them that they learned mostly similar things to muggles, such as maths and writing, but they also learned a little about magical history and spells, although none but their teacher was allowed to use magic. 

Haneul had seen magic before, of course, being brought up by a witch and around other witches and wizards, but she had only used it herself a few times, and by accident. Once, she had dropped a bowl, and instead of falling to the ground, it had frozen in mid-air, allowing her to grab it back again. Another time, she had somehow managed to block a mis-aimed spell of her mother's, who had been trying to summon the post. Minjeong had always said that Haneul only had few experiences of magic because she was controlled.

"It's because you're not prone to emotional outbursts." She had explained after hearing her daughter's worries about not showing as much magic as others. "Being able to control it is the way it's best to be. It'll be better once you start learning at Hogwarts."

Hogwarts. The place all adult witches and wizards talked about, the place where you went from child to adult. And now she was eleven, Haneul would be setting off on September 1st, to truly begin her life as a witch, not just the child of one. She was excited, more than anything, to go, because she had heard all about how those you met at Hogwarts would be like a second family, that the best memories of one's life were made there. Of course she had no worries, no nerves about a place that was told to be the best place around for young wizards and witches.

Haneul had been to Diagon Alley plenty of times, always more than willing to accompany her mother there because it was so full of exciting things. She had visited the apothecary before, although only briefly, and ducked into the bookshop, Flourish and Blotts, as well as paying visits to the Owl Emporium plenty of times, but there were several shops which Haneul had never been in. She had not visited Potage's, where cauldrons were sold, nor Madam Malkin's, and certainly not Ollivander's, the place to buy a wand. And it was a wand that excited her most, having seen her mother do all kinds of things with her own wand, menial tasks becoming quick and easy work with a little flick. A witch or wizard did not need a wand to perform magic, but the quality and control of one's magic was refined significantly by the use of a wand. A wand was like an extension of your own arm, the means of survival amongst the magical world.

Entering the wand shop was not only a new experience for Haneul - her mother had never entered the shop either, owing to the fact that her wand had been made for her before she had left Korea for Hogwarts at age eleven. The piles of wand boxes lining the walls and the counter looked so fragile that a breath in the wrong direction might have toppled one, and all the furniture and decoration of the small shop gave off an impression of great age. Or perhaps it was because the lamps were low, sending a yellowish glow about the place.

Mr. Ollivander himself similarly added to the atmosphere of great age. His skin was lined and looked crumpled, and he had completely white hair. His eyes too, were pale, he looked very close to being a ghost, only he was not transparent. His orb-like eyes fixed on Haneul, he seemed to examine her for a while before raising his head again.

"Of course, of course. But I did not make your mother's wand, and so I did not think of you, but of course, the time has come at last." He said, softly. He turned to Minjeong. "I suppose, of course, you did not experience the way I prefer to sell wands?"

Minjeong shook her head. "My wand was made for me."

"It is a little different here," the old man said, walking out from behind the counter. "The wand chooses the wizard, or," He gestured to Haneul, "the witch." 

"It's an interesting concept." Minjeong nodded. "Although it spits in the face of tradition, so I doubt it would become popular in some places." 

"Wandlore is complex." Ollivander agreed, as he began setting a tape measure to work, measuring Haneul's height, arm length, even the circumference of her head. "The way that wands truly work is most difficult to decipher." 

With surprising speed for someone who had seemed so old, he paced back around the counter and turned to face the wall, stacked high with boxes, behind it. He moved his hand over them, brushing the ends with his wizened fingers, as if trying to detect something from one of them, perhaps trying to call one to him, or match one to whatever measurements he had taken. At last, he settled on a box, and deftly pulled it out of the stack. None of the other boxes shifted position, they must have been held in place by magic.

"Beech." Ollivander proclaimed as he gently took the wand from its box. "Eleven inches, dragon heartstring." 

He placed it in Haneul's hand, but before she had even moved it, she knew it was wrong. Although she had never felt a true wand before, she knew this wasn't the one. Mr. Ollivander seemed to know too, because he snatched it back immediately. 

"No, no, I really don't think so." He said, replacing the wand in the box and setting it to one side. "I think we'll try another." 

Turning back to the shelf, he repeated the same process, selecting another wand from the shelves.

"An unusual one. Pear, with unicorn hair, eleven inches also. Rather interesting, I think." 

He held it ut. It was rather more handsome than the beech wand, but still did not feel quite right. Again, Ollivander knew this almost at once and took it back. 

"Not quite." He said, knowingly. "Although perhaps we are getting a little closer." 

He disappeared into the back rooms of the shop this time, whatever strange sixth sense that helped him choose wands had clearly decided that nothing visible would be right. He emerged after several minutes, with another long box.

"This one, I have had for a while. But perhaps, yes, it could be the one." He mused, more to himself than anyone else. He held up the wand to the low light, it was darker wood than any others, and Minjeong seemed to squint at it for a moment before she righted herself again.

Haneul took the wand from Ollivander, and gripped it. At first, nothing happened, but then she was filled with a warm glow, that seemed to be both deep inside her and all around her, as if it permeated into the air around her. This, surely, was the way one was supposed to feel.

Mr. Ollivander agreed, and looked quite satisfied. 

"Yes, yes, that's the one. Ebony and unicorn hair, eleven inches." He nodded, taking the wand back to replace it in the box. "A particularly fierce unicorn, I must say. It's a wonder I was able to take any tail hairs at all."

Haneul did not notice the look on her mother's face as they left the shop, the slight curiosity, as if she was entertaining some kind of strange thought tentatively inside her head, but it was something she was not altogether convinced of. But why would there be anything? Indeed, even Minjeong could not be sure and wondered whether this was just her lack of knowledge on the way British wizards and witches selected their wands. She put it out of her mind, determined not to be the one to break any silences, and determined to allow her daughter's bliss to continue for as long as possible. In later years, the two might agree that it was the cusp of a moment, on the August day in Diagon Alley, and that had Minjeong opened her mouth, or looked further, or even if Haneul’s observance had been sharper, things may have been very different in a very great number of ways.


	3. The Blue House

August did not have to change much in order to shift to September. The morning of the first was quite as bright and warm as the thirty-first of the previous month, only with a new emotion hanging in the air: excitement, perhaps mingled with some nerves. In a sense, today was a day almost every young witch or wizard waited for with bated breath, secretly imagined in their heads until it was really happening. Not only would Haneul, along with every other eleven year old witch and wizard, be beginning their magical education and starting the road to adulthood, but today each would be sorted into a house, a family that would perhaps stay with them for years to come, even after finishing school.

Many wizarding homes still bore signs of the adults' houses, whether it was old scarves in house colours that came out in the winter, or perhaps a favouritism of a certain animal that represented the former house of family members. Minjeong was no exception to this rule, and still had a banner from a quidditch final where Ravenclaw had won, and still seemed to favour blue after all these years. Her disposition and values reflected Ravenclaw too - Minjeong was a little younger in years compared to many peers with children Haneul's age, but wise to all end and a fierce protector of anyone, regardless of status or species.

Haneul had never been outright told that she should be in Ravenclaw, but she knew that it was her only option, and not just for her mother's sake. Growing up with only her mother meant that she respected her greatly. Haneul assumed that to be like her mother, and to take her good traits would also mean to be in Ravenclaw, or 'the blue house' as it was called when Minjeong spoke in her mother tongue.

"You will write to me, when you've had your sorting, won't you?" Minjeong did not sound exactly anxious, but she was not as casual as she could usually be.

Haneul nodded. "Of course I will."

"Good girl." She patted Haneul's shoulder absent-mindedly, looking out of the window of the kitchen before swiftly shaking herself back to sense and walking off to check that she had remembered to put some last-minute washed socks into Haneul's trunk.

Haneul had travelled places by side-along-apparition a handful of times in her life, but even compared to the first time, she was the most breathless when the pair of her and her mother appeared in an alleyway a few streets away from King's Cross Station, in London. According to Minjeong, the Ministry of Magic, where she worked, had put sufficient charms on that particular street to keep most muggles away, so it was a safe point of arrival for witches and wizards bringing their children to the station to depart for Hogwarts. All the same, the two of them still attracted a little attention from muggles, because despite their muggle attire, Haneul had an owl in a cage, a pretty barn which she had named Pinocchio, and a large trunk. They hurried as quickly as possible through the station, trying not to be noticed too much.

"Now, just like I've told you, the barrier isn't solid." Minjeong said quietly, as they approached. "I don't think it's such a good idea to run at it, the station's fairly busy. But we can lean against it and it'll work just fine. That's what I always used to do." 

The pair stopped next to the enchanted barrier, and Minjeong pretended to point out the time to Haneul, before they both sunk through the seemingly solid wall, onto platform nine and three quarters.

It was magnificent. It looked like an old station platform, different to the modern ones in King's Cross with their plastic seats and lurid advertisements. There were green wooden and metal benches along the wall, although not many were being sat in, and above them were colourful posters advertising Madam Malkin's robe shop and the latest broomsticks. Students and parents were scattered up and down the platform, some already in uniform, others with house scarves streaking in coloured blurs behind them. People were bidding goodbyes and yelling hellos all around, and owls were hooting with a mixture of excitement and indignation. Some people were already on the train, a scarlet steam engine, which gleamed as if brand new, hanging out the window and shouting to their friends. It was noisy, but still wonderful and inviting. 

"It's five to eleven." Her mother's voice cut through the noise. "You'd better be getting on."

Haneul took hold of her trunk, and turned back to face her mother, who suddenly launched onto her and hugged her tightly.

"Make sure to have fun. And behave yourself. And write to me. And-"

"Yes, mum, I know. I'll do all that." Said Haneul, feeling slightly embarrassed. "I'll be alright."

Minjeong straightened up and smiled. "Of course you will." She nodded. "I'll see you at Christmas anyway. It's not too long." This, Haneul observed, seemed to be more of a reminder to herself than Haneul.

After another hug, Minjeong let Haneul board the train, trunk and owl in hand, waving with a smile that was definitely tearful. 

Many of the compartments were full or nearly full of students that looked much, much older than Haneul. Although she lived around lots of other wizarding children, nobody was Hogwarts age yet, so she wouldn’t find any familiar faces. Some of her mother’s friends had children, but they were all still quite young, owing to Minjeong’s faster start to motherhood. So she wouldn't know anyone in her classes, any other young people she knew wouldn't come to the school for another couple of years. 

Finally, Haneul found a compartment that was mostly empty. Only a blonde girl sat there, bent over a book. When Haneul opened the compartment door, she jumped violently, and nearly dropped her book.

"Sorry!" Haneul exclaimed. "I should have knocked." She added, apologetically.

"You'd have scared the life out of me either way." The girl replied, with a grin. "My dad reckons my ears switch off when I'm reading."

"Can I sit in here? Everywhere else is full of older students."

The girl nodded and closed her book. "Sure. I'm not waiting on anyone. My brother's down the other end of the train, probably showing off." She shrugged as Haneul sat down. "I'm Cara. Cara Whittle." 

"Haneul Shin." She replied. "Must be nice to have a brother here though. At least you know someone."

"I doubt it will make a difference." The girl called Cara gave another shrug. "He's in fourth year, and he reckons he's the best thing since pimple-removing potions." She rolled her eyes. "If I'm not in gryffindor with him, he'll probably pretend we're not related."

"Are all your family in gryffindor?" 

Cara nodded, with a slight grimace. "Mum, Dad, Ian, and all my parent's brothers and sisters too." 

"But do you think you'll get put in there too?"

Cara shrugged for the third time and stared out the window. "Maybe. I'm not a daredevil like Ian though. I don't fit in with him and his mates. Not that I really care. I don't like his friends that much.” Cara did not seem too upset by this. “What about your family?"

"My mum was a Ravenclaw. But she was the first in her family to go to Hogwarts, so I've no idea about where they would have gone, seeing as I've never met half of them." 

"You've never met your extended family?" Cara asked in surprise. "That must be nice. I get dragged everywhere because my parents have so many siblings, and they're all really close." 

"Nope, it's just me and my mum. It gets boring sometimes, I'd rather have friends and family to see often. All her family live in Korea, that’s too far to visit." She had never really considered why she didn't know anyone on her mother's side, she had always assumed it was to do with being physically far away, and other reasons were too complex for an eleven year old who knew almost nothing about the reality of her existence.

Cara seemed to consider this for a moment. "Well, you've got at least one friend now." She said with conviction.

The compartment door banged open, and a boy of about fourteen swaggered in. He was blonde, and, Haneul realised, looked extremely like Cara, which must make him her brother. He was alone, but gave off the impression that usually he would be surrounded by a few others. He had an air of slight arrogance, but the funny sort rather than the exasperating sort. He thought a lot of himself but stayed relatively down to earth because he preferred people to laugh along with him rather than having a lot of power.

"Oh, there you are." He said, in a bored voice. "Mum told me I should check on you during the journey."

"Hello, Ian." Cara said, and her tone was neither warm nor cold. "Don't bother. I'm not going to get myself in any kind of trouble on a train ride." 

He flopped into a seat, and looked at Haneul with some interest, as if he was examining something rare. "Who's this?" He asked Cara, gesturing to her.

"This is Haneul. But she has a mouth, and working ears. You could always do her the courtesy of, you know, asking her directly."

Ian shrugged, looking a lot like his sister had done. "Whatever you say, aunt Cara." He picked himself up from the seat and walked over to the door, only turning back to say, "We'll be there soon. Get your uniform on." 

With that, he left the compartment with a slight swagger, slamming the door harder than he needed to.

“Sorry about him.” Cara looked a little embarrassed, but mostly annoyed. “Manners have never applied to him. Lesser people like us can bother with it, but the great gryffindor Ian Whittle doesn’t need to be nice.”

The rest of the journey passed quickly, as the light began to leave the sky and the village of Hogsmeade drew nearer to them, the scarlet steam engine cutting through the mountainous landscape. The train appeared to almost come alive, students roused from their seats to change into their uniforms, pack away uneaten sweets. Owls could be heard hooting again, as their owners moved their cages down from shelves and as people started to bustle around more. Compartment doors stopped opening and shutting as frequently too, and finally the train came to a halt in a lamplit station. Having already been instructed to leave their luggage on the train, Haneul and Cara hurried to join the surge of the crowd disembarking onto the tiny platform. They could see the exit, even though the light was low, but something, or rather someone, was calling from the end of the platform. 

“Firs’ years! Over here! Get outta the way, let ‘em through now, c’mon, this way if you’re a firs’ year!”

A giant man was standing there, waving his great hands, one of which was holding a lantern which spilled extra light at that end of the platform. He was bigger than anyone Haneul had ever seen, and by the looks of it, bigger than anyone that any of the other first years had seen too. He must have been eleven or twelve feet tall - he seemed nearly three times the size of some of the particularly tiny first years. He was wearing a massive coat that looked like it could fit several people in it comfortably. He had wild, bushy hair and a beard to match, which obscured much of his face, and black eyes. They were, however, warm, inviting, and kind. He seemed to be a gentle person, despite his booming voice.

“That’s Hagrid.” Cara said, knowingly. “Ian says his bark is worse than his bite, therefore he doesn’t think too much of him. Seeing as he’s not a great scary obstacle to overcome.”

Haneul did not remember being told about Hagrid, but she did remember being told about how first years entered the castle for the first time. And Minjeong’s lavish descriptions had not been for nothing. As the first years rounded a corner away from the platform, struggling to keep up with Hagrid’s enormous strides, they saw the castle. It was set atop a mountain and seemed to rise from the stone itself, ornate yet massive. Lights glinted in the many windows, like golden jewels against the black stone. There were four turrets that stretched up seven floors, like stony sentries that guarded the walls and their secrets within. 

“Alrigh’, no more’an four to a boat, mind yer don’t slip as yer get in!” 

Hagrid’s deep voice bellowed through Haneul’s awe and she quickly hastened, with the other students, to get into one of the small boats waiting at the shore of a great black lake that seemed to lead to the castle. No one said much in the boats, too mesmerised by the castle as it grew closer and larger, and too nervous to strike up conversation with people they didn’t know. After some time of gliding over the smooth lake, the silence only broken by an occasional ‘ooh’ or ‘ahh’ of wonder, they seemed to be reaching the face of the cliff that the castle was set on. Haneul wondered how they were to reach the castle, even with magic on their side, when Hagrid called for them to bend down, and they sailed through a curtain of ivy, into a dark tunnel that was lit only by the lanterns in the boats. It appeared to have been cleanly scooped out of the rock, the walls and ceiling smooth, but there was nothing else to it, the place must not get used more than once a year to transport the first years. Eventually, they reached a sort of underground boathouse, and the boats stopped neatly along the shore, waiting for the people they had carried to depart. They were then led up a flight of stone steps and, finally, reached the front of the castle, standing before the great oak doors, which even dwarfed Hagrid. He had barely knocked when it swung open, and they were met by someone new.

A witch in deep green robes stood behind the doors, and despite being half Hagrid’s size, she was twice as frightening. She had a strict look about her, her beady eyes seemed to be searching for wrongdoing all the time, and she was standing very straight, her black hair pulled back tightly. Hagrid himself looked more timid in her presence, speaking far quieter as he pronounced the group behind him to be the first-years, before quickly making off. The witch led them through the doors, into the entrance hall, but did not lead them through the double doors at one end from which some noise, likely the sounds of the older students talking, came from. Instead, they filed into a chamber off the entrance hall and gathered in one group in front of the witch.   


“I am Professor McGonagall. I am the deputy headmistress here.” She said, her voice as sharp as Haneul could have expected from her. “The start-of-term feast will shortly begin, but before it does, you will all need to be sorted into your houses. Your house will be like your family here, you do many lessons with the other members of your house and will spend a considerable amount of time with them. Your dormitories and common room are shared with those in your house. Here at Hogwarts we have a considerable amount of house pride. Doing well will earn you points, doing badly will lose them. At the end of the year, one house will be awarded the house cup, which is a great honour.”

A silence followed. Anyone who had been raised in the muggle world looked stunned, those who were raised in wizarding families looked expectant or excited. One secret Haneul had been able to wheedle from her mother was the method of sorting - she knew all about the sorting hat and how it worked - and was excited but nervous to try it on. It was only now that the real possibility of not being in Ravenclaw presented itself to Haneul, only now that the idea it would not place her in the blue house really became at all real. But no, she must be in Ravenclaw. There was no other option, no other way. The absence of any other house pride made it almost certain. It didn’t, it couldn’t matter what house her father had been in, if any, because as far as Haneul’s life was concerned, he didn’t exist anyway.

By the time Haneul had finished thinking this all over, Professor McGonagall had left and re-entered the antechamber, and it was time to go into the Great Hall. They walked across the torchlit entrance hall again, plenty of the others looking even paler than before, several shaking slightly as well, as they entered the hall. 

Four long tables stretched down the hall, one for each house. Haneul could discern which was which from where they stood. At the far left, the student’s necks glistened with emerald ties, then next to that, blue, then yellow, then red at the far right. Professor McGonagall began leading the first-years down the middle of the hall, between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables. Every student had gone quiet now. Choosing not to focus on the hundreds of eyes looking at her and the others, Haneul looked up instead. The high ceiling resembled the clear night sky outside perfectly, dotted with stars but otherwise a dark, velvety blue-black. Candles hung above them too, floating magically and making the light like starlight or moonlight as they flickered and twinkled warmly, shining brightly on the burnished gold plates and goblets on the tables. Once they reached the top of the hall, just in front of the high table, Haneul finally looked forward again and saw the frayed, patched sorting hat sitting on a wooden stool on the raised platform that held the staff table. 

Haneul was vaguely aware that the hat had begun to sing, but her attention had been caught by examining the people sitting at the staff table. She had seen plenty of adult witches and wizards before, as her mother associated with plenty of them, but was curious, nonetheless, to catch a glimpse of who would be teaching her. At the very end sat Hagrid, right near the Gryffindor table, taking up the most space, towering over the rest of the teachers. Next to him was an empty seat - was it Professor McGonagall’s? Or was one teacher not present? Next to the empty seat sat a witch in red robes, with a pointed hat that looked more like a wizard’s than a witch’s. She had the same sort of strict look about her as Professor McGonagall. To Haneul’s surprise, it was not a person, but a ghost who sat next to the witch. He must have once been a wizard, but was now translucent and pale, his see-through eyes glancing dolefully around the great hall. He must have been a teacher, because the other ghosts were either sitting at house tables, glowing silver amongst the black, or else floating in mid air, transfixed on the sorting. Haneul’s eyes had just moved onto the next, a man who was looking frightened and furtive, when the sorting hat stopped singing and Professor McGonagall’s voice pierced the hall once again, bringing Haneul back to attention again.

“When I call your name, you will come and sit down and place the sorting hat on your head. Once it has announced your house, you will proceed to sit at that table, in an orderly and quiet fashion, please.” She seemed to address this to the whole hall, glancing around menacingly as she unrolled a large scroll of parchment and cleared her throat.

“Allen, Thomas!”

A small boy with overlarge robes stumbled towards the stool, nearly falling over the hem of his trousers as he did so, thumping down onto the stool with obviousrelief. The hat paused for a second, as if considering him, before the rip at the brim opened wide.

“RAVENCLAW!”

Suddenly, Haneul would have quite liked to be Thomas Allen, as he tripped over his hems to the wildly cheering Ravenclaw table, going bright red, but with pride and not embarrassment. Now she wanted to be called straight away, but she knew that with the letter S beginning her surname, she would have to wait some time, that probably most of the students would be sorted before her own name was called. She tried instead to focus on Rebecca Bailey, who was promptly pronounced a Gryffindor. She saw Cara’s brother clapping wildly and punching the air as Rebecca Bailey joined the table, and thought about Cara. Her last name began with a W, she could even be last to be sorted, would she join the same house as all of her family, or would she be given a different path? Then that made Haneul think of her own predicament, of the possibility of not joining Thomas Allen, and she wished she had not been thinking of anything at all, and stared straight ahead, until-

“Shin, Haneul!”

Haneul walked what felt like five miles towards the stool, feeling as if her stomach had completely dropped out from her body. Now she realised that it was probably nothing to do with his clothes that had made Thomas Allen stumble, it was uncommonly hard to keep your balance when it felt like you were walking to an executioner’s scaffold. Her heart thumped in her throat rather than her chest, and she wondered if the whole room could hear it, the volume seemed so loud. At last she reached the stool, and crammed the hat on her head, all the time begging for one answer inside her head. 

But then a voice that was not hers sounded inside her mind.

“Hmm, interesting.” It said. It was clear, but somehow Haneul could tell that only she heard it. “Plenty of brains, a curious mind. A certain thirst too, perhaps for knowledge, yet greatness. I sense some of that in your blood, yes, a bloodline in Slytherin… perhaps that should be followed…”

_ No, no, that’s not right.  _ Haneul thought, more furiously than she had ever thought anything.

“No? Perhaps that ambition is not as pronounced as I saw…” The hat mused, sounding thoughtful. “You seem to know your mind rather well. Then it’d better be, let’s see, RAVENCLAW!”

As the hat yelled this last word, all of the feeling returned to Haneul and her stomach reappeared. She heaved a breath for what felt like the first time in years as she dragged the hat off her head, unable to wipe the relieved grin from her face at being told she belonged where she had always hoped she would. It didn’t matter, anymore, that Slytherin, or any other house, had been a possibility. Because it had chosen Ravenclaw for her, so that must be where she belonged. Logically, Haneul thought, as she took a seat at the table, the hat was unlikely to put someone in a house just because they asked for it, and to add to that, Haneul had not even specifically asked for Ravenclaw either, so there was no way she belonged anywhere else. There was just no point in worrying about it - what was done was done, and in Haneul’s opinion, it had been done in exactly the right way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here we are - the end of the first publication! Unfortunately, AO# doesn't let you have a 'Chapter 0', so I've had to adjust each chapter number. In general, I'll refer to chapters by names and numbers, but if you're ever wondering exactly which chapter I mean, look at the name. So if I say 'in Chapter 2 - The Blue House, x event happens', I'm talking about The Blue House, which shows up as Chapter 3 on here.
> 
> I haven't done a chapter analysis for this set - because I'm lazy, and because I don't think there's any need for it seeing as we're not far in yet. If you'd like to see the version of this with notes from me (which AO3 doesn't allow in the capacity I want), go to my carrd - fromthesky.carrd.co - and you can access it through there!


	4. Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies in advance - these are fairly short (it's so weird that I used to find 4k a large amount to write for a chapter, when now I average about 7k. But I hope you enjoy these - I definitely had a great time writing them all the way back in July! For those who don't know, my favourite HP character is Snape, and I got to *finally* describe him (I think I got somewhat carried away, but I've left plenty of comments about it on my noted version - see fromthesky.carrd.co! I might write some more about it at the end.

All that Haneul had ever worried about had disappeared like a phantom on the night of the sorting. Everything, truly everything, had gone so well that it seemed like the universe itself had planned for it to be this way. Cara had joined Haneul in Ravenclaw, much to both girls’ delight, and they had a whole weekend to explore the castle and learn where everything was before lessons began, because September first had been a Friday. 

Hogwarts was even more splendid on the inside, Haneul had quickly discovered. Upon finishing the feast, after the sorting ceremony, the new Ravenclaws had all been led up many flights of stairs to the fifth floor at the west of the castle, where a handleless door stood. The only thing that had made it discernable from a piece of wall was the eagle knocker, which when knocked, sprung to life and asked a riddle to whoever was standing there. Only once a satisfactory answer had been given by the prefect leading the group did the door open into the common room - a bright and airy room, draped with various shades of blue, featuring plenty of bronze, the two Ravenclaw house colours. The windows were high and arched, and in the daytime, there was a spectacular view over the grounds. The room itself was carpeted in midnight blue, strewn with stars, like the ceiling. Tables, chairs and armchairs were placed all around, for relaxing or working. Opposite the entrance, in a niche in the wall, stood a statue of Rowena Ravenclaw, the founder of the house, made of cool white marble. To the left of this was another door, which led to the dormitories, in turrets that came off the tower.

There were six girls in each first-year dormitory, and the prefect told them they could choose which to be in, but that this could not be changed. Haneul ended up with Cara, as well as four others, who she only knew by face, having seen them join the table during the sorting. There was a tall, pale skinned girl with fiery hair that clashed brilliantly with the blue bedspreads on the four-posters, called Keira O’Connor, who told them all in her heavily accented voice that her whole family had been in Ravenclaw. Next to her was a small, but rather loud and pompous girl who was muggle-born, but said she’d read up all about the houses already and had decided at once that she wanted to be in Ravenclaw. Her name was Amaya Gulati, and she ensured everyone that if her name was mispronounced, she would curse the speaker into oblivion. Amaya’s loudness made up for the third girl in the dorm, however, as Violet Enfield hardly said a word. She didn’t make much of an impression on Haneul - Violet was neither short nor tall, and had brown hair and eyes, and tried very hard to blend in with everyone else. The final girl, apart from Haneul and Cara, was very protective of Violet, and, it seemed, a stickler for rules. She told them all that she already knew Violet and also that she would always report misbehaviours. She was blonde, like Cara, but her hair was curly and she had green eyes. Her name was Olivia Brown, and she eyed each of her dorm-mates with the sort of expression Professor McGonagall had, only far less scary as she was eleven.

Haneul regretted not being able to examine the teachers’ table more thoroughly during the feast, as she now had no idea who would be teaching her, and hadn’t been able to acclimatise herself with the new faces. Luckily, on Saturday, at breakfast, Cara was able to tell her everything she knew about the teachers, having already had some information from Ian.

“That’s Professor Sprout,” she pointed to a jolly looking woman, who had twigs in her hair, “and she teaches Herbology. Head of Hufflepuff. Ian reckons she’s really nice, but she probably just lets him get away with things in her lessons. Then next to her is Flitwick, but you know him now. Charms. He was a duelling champion, apparently. Then Professor McGonagall, who we’ve met, she’s strict of course.” Cara moved onto the wizard sitting next to her in a throne-like seat in the middle, who had long, silvery white hair and beard, and who was wearing magnificent robes of deep plum, embroidered with silver stars. 

“That’s Professor Dumbledore. But everyone knows who he is. Greatest wizard of the age, cleverest man to walk the Earth, best headmaster the school’s ever seen.” Cara reeled off. Totally brilliant, or so I’ve heard.”

“Who’s that?” Haneul pointed to the man sitting on his right side.

He was young, or at least fairly young, although his face had some premature lines to it. His skin was sallow, he looked thin and a little unhealthy. He was, at that moment, focussed on a copy of the Daily Prophet, and did not seem to have noticed that everyone around him was eating. He had greasy black hair that fell in curtains about his face, making it look thinner than it was. This effect was added to by his large, hooked nose, which made all his features look smaller. He was dressed all in black, his collar reaching his chin, his sleeves deliberately reaching past his wrists, stopping before his fingers. He gave off an air of someone who, like McGonagall,should not be crossed, but he seemed in a way, nastier, despite being younger. Haneul could not place what it was, but something just seemed, well,  _ off _ , about him. As if behind his eyes, which were black and impassive, something lay that no one had any access to.

“That,” Cara replied with emphasis, “is Professor Snape. Potions.”

“Is there a reason he looks so… grumpy?”

“If there is, I don’t know it. Ian says he probably hates children but… He wouldn’t be a teacher if that was the case. He’s an eternal pessimist, apparently. A potions prodigy, and no one can live up to his standards. That’s what it could be. He’s just annoyed at all us mortals who can’t whip up an antidote with our eyes closed. He’s the head of Slytherin. If you’re not in his house, he hates you on principle.

“Hates? That’s a bit of a strong word.” 

“It’s what Ian said, But I suppose that everything he says ought to be taken with a pinch of salt.”

Haneul quickly learned of Ian’s reputation throughout the school, by the way people talked to and interacted with Cara. They seemed to expect her to start sliding down the banisters or throwing Filibuster Fireworks at Mrs. Norris, the caretaker’s cat. Ian was known for being loud, annoying, and daring to a stupid extent at times. He was a beater on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, but the captain had apparently sworn to kick him off if he tried anything else ‘too risky’ in future matches. Many people were shocked to know that Cara preferred the quiet, did not want to get in people’s way, and would rather hide in the library than threaten anyone’s treasured pet. It was shocking enough for lots of Ian’s friends that Cara wasn’t in Gryffindor, for the first day they told her that they had her seat reserved in the common room, until Cara lost her temper and told them not to hold their breath about it.

Overall, the first weekend at Hogwarts was enjoyable. Haneul liked exploring the vast castle, peeking into classrooms, catching glimpses of teachers, and poring over her timetable to see what she would be learning. She found she had lots of her lessons with members of other houses - potions with the Hufflepuffs, Herbology with the Gryffindors and Charms with the Slytherins. For Transfiguration, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Astronomy and History of Magic, they would be with the other half of the Ravenclaws in first year, who had their other lessons with different groups of first-years from the other houses. Haneul’s first lesson was to be Potions, which Cara was most excited about, to see if every complaint that Ian had ever made about Professor Snape was legitimate.

There was a much gloomier atmosphere in the Great Hall on Monday morning, mostly due to the fact that the weekend was over. Many of the older students were looking weary-eyed, absent-mindedly picking at bacon, or spreading butter on toast without properly looking at it. Some students looked very alert - especially at the Ravenclaw table. The girl prefect who had led the new first-years to Ravenclaw tower on the first night was marching up and down, reprimanding those Ravenclaws with their ties askew or crinkled shirts when Haneul and Cara sat down in some empty spaces near the doors of the Great Hall. They ended up next to Amaya, who was examining her timetable for about the twentieth time since receiving it on Saturday. She was extremely talkative, and started a conversation before Haneul had even reached for toast.

“I don’t know why so many of the others look so glum. I’m rather excited to begin lessons. I want to see if wizard teachers are anything like muggle ones.”

“What are muggle schools like?” Cara asked, having been raised around only wizards.

“Boring. There aren’t any muggle schools with ghosts or portraits or staircases that move. And I think the lessons here will be far more fun. In my old muggle school, we just learned maths and writing and stuff. Spells must be more interesting, I think.”

“There’s a lot of theory involved with spells, you know.” Keira shot in, a little patronisingly. “Lots of writing and understanding. You don’t just wave your wand and suddenly turn your goblet into a quill or something.”

Privately, Haneul thought this was quite a tactless thing to say, seeing as Amaya had never really seen proper magic before, and was clearly looking forward to being able to use it. Clearly, Cara agreed, because she swallowed a gulp of pumpkin juice and looked scathingly at Keira.

“No need to rain on her parade. Just because  _ you’ve _ been used to magic, doesn’t mean everyone is.” She turned to Amaya. “She’s probably only seen basic household spells. My parents wouldn’t show me any defensive spells or anything really cool. Just things like folding clothes with magic or weeding the garden. It’s better to have all the great stuff saved up until you actually get to learn in. Just wait, you’ll enjoy lessons most, because it’ll all be so exciting.”

After breakfast, Haneul’s dormitory, and half of the first-year boys made their way down to the dungeons for potions. Haneul and Cara had only come here once, going down two steps before they agreed they didn’t want to risk coming across Professor Snape and getting turned into an ingredient for a potion. But the dim corridor seemed far less formidable with so many others around them, as the Hufflepuffs had joined them. Excited and nervous whispers passed up and down the line as they waited outside the dungeon classroom, waiting for Professor Snape to let them in. It was everyone’s first class, so they were all a little more nervous than they might have been, but everyone was still very excited to use magic.

But, as it turned out, using magic seemed rare in potions. 

Professor Snape did his best to scare all the students as he surveyed them through his curtains of greasy hair, his black eyes narrowed. He did not speak at first, but walked up and down the classroom, glancing over their shoulders, apparently checking that they all had the required textbooks and equipment. They all must have been satisfactory, because he did not pause to remark, and continued on, black cloak billowing behind him. When he had finished prowling, holding the class in silence, he returned to the teacher’s desk at the top of the classroom and sat down behind it, looking just as menacing as ever, perhaps daring someone to say something. After a few seconds, he whipped the register out of the drawer.

“Let’s see…” He said softly, and began calling names. He called each with zero emotion. Not monotony, but his voice was as impassive as his gaze, it did ot give anything away. After he had taken the register, he stood up again, and began pacing about the classroom and began a sort of speech.

“The art of potion making will not appeal to very many of you. It is a precise discipline and therefore will not suit most of you who prefer to make loud bangs and furious gesticulations with your wands. However.” He paused briefly. “For those who are able to restrain themselves, a great deal can be achieved through potions. They are more useful for disguise, healing and transformation than spells and therefore should you succeed, you will no doubt have a skill that can serve you well in your life.” He had reached the top of the classroom again. 

“That said, I am not fool enough to start any class with a difficult potion, even if that class should contain some Ravenclaws.” He said the last word with some contempt, as if he repulsed the idea. “Therefore, we will brew the most simple potion in the syllabus.” 

He drew his wand from his robes and flicked it at the empty blackboard, upon which instructions for a potion to cure boils was written. The instructions themselves did not appear to be extremely complicated, and there weren’t that many ingredients either, but Professor Snape had been right when he said that potion-making was difficult and required precision. Keira added one too many spines of lionfish to her potion, and it turned a violent shade of orange and spat at her and Olivia, her desk partner, wildly. It took a matter of seconds for Professor Snape to notice and hiss at the both of them to clean it up and start again. He had very little patience for people who were not good at potions, which Haneul thought was quite mean of him, seeing as none of them had ever brewed anything before. That said, he didn’t seem to have patience for those who were good either. Haneul and Cara didn’t make any mistakes, but he did not say anything to them or their cauldron, nor did he offer praise to anyone else who did well.

“Just as I thought.” Cara said, bitterly, as they walked back to the Entrance Hall at break. “He’s angry no one’s as good as him, but he also can’t stand it when anyone else is good. Our potion was perfect! I bet any other teacher would have given us points for that.”

Haneul nodded, feeling a little dejected. Was the only motivation for being good at potions being able to escape Professor Snape’s harsh criticism? It certainly hadn’t been the best start to the day, and it was dreary to think that every Monday for the rest of the school year would begin in that oppressive dungeon classroom. 

The next class was Transfiguration, this time with only other Ravenclaws. They filed into Classroom 1B after break in equal silence as they had been in before potions, although the other half of the Ravenclaws, who had just had Herbology with some of the Slytherins, was far less worried about being told off than the class who had just been in Professor Snape’s potions class. The classroom itself was far less oppressive than the potions dungeon - bright and airy with large windows like the common room and there was no chill that the dungeons had due to being underground. They all sat with rapt attention as Professor McGonagall began to tell them about how difficult Transfiguration was. It seemed to be a tradition to be given a sort of speech by the teacher before beginning the lessons, but, unlike Professor Snape, Professor McGonagall told them all that they had the ability to succeed in Transfiguration as long as they paid attention and listened closely to instructions. Their first task was to turn a match into a needle, which no one did, although to the annoyance of Cara, Keira’s match had become thinner by the end of the lesson. Cara grinned when Keira was given homework along with the rest of the class, although that slipped off her face when she realised that she also had homework.

“McGonagall isn’t bad, is she?” Haneul commented as they walked down to lunch from Ravenclaw tower after dropping their bags off. “She’s a better teacher than Snape.”

“You think so?” Cara asked. 

“Well, Snape didn’t really  _ teach _ . He just told us to follow the instructions.”

“Didn’t you notice that the instructions were different from the ones in the textbook? We used less dried nettles. I read the recipe when I got the books in the summer.” She explained. “So that means he edited the recipe, probably to make it better. Even if he didn’t explain things like McGonagall, he definitely knows what he’s doing.”

Haneul was unconvinced that this made Professor Snape necessarily a good teacher, but Cara was insistent that a bad teacher wouldn’t bother to fine-tune instructions like that, and refused to hear any more on that subject.

“Charms this afternoon.” Cara observed, checking her timetable in the Great Hall. “With the Slytherins. But Flitwick’s our head of house, maybe he’ll be extra nice to us.” 

Haneul was hesitant to criticise Slytherins, because she was aware it might well be like criticising herself, seeing as she had nearly been placed in there herself, and apparently had the aptitude for it, so she preferred to just listen to everything Cara had to say about the Slytherins, most of which was her brother’s prejudice. Gryffindors and Slytherins hated each other on principle, Haneul reckoned that the day Ian Whittle proclaimed anything good about a Slytherin would be the day Professor Snape started being friendly.

Charms turned out to be the most fun class of the day. Like Transfiguration, there was spell-work involved, but there was far less theory, and a little more room for creativity and enjoyment. The teacher, a tiny man called Professor Flitwick, was also much less strict than any other teacher they had met that day. He seemed quite excited as he told the class that Charms required focus but a sense of creativity. He was also far more positive, and told the class by the end of the lesson that he was sure they would be able to start levitating objects in no time at all, and that they were one of the best classes he had ever taught in first-year. He even gave all the students who had managed to light their wands even a tiny bit a point to their house. More Ravenclaws than Slytherins had managed this, so they were all extremely happy as they left the class for Ravenclaw tower.

It had been a good day, but Haneul did not think she had been more tired in her life. By the time she had finished her Transfiguration homework, she was ready to fall asleep right on the desk she had been working at, but managed to drag herself up to the dormitory after Cara threatened to work out how to learn Curse of The Bogies, something she had read about in one of their books. 

Wednesday brought something else exciting for the Ravenclaw first-years - their first ever Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson. Not only was this subject famous for being enjoyable and useful, but the teacher, Professor Quirrell, was the only one Ian had not been able to tell Cara all about. He had been the Muggle Studies professor until the previous year, when he had taken a year out to study the dark arts hands-on. Ian had never taken muggle studies, so Quirrell was an unknown entity. His classroom was as dimly lit as the dungeons, and also had a funny smell, but that smell was only garlic, not a gently simmering potion. Haneul wondered if she would be able to learn anything in these classes, because Professor Quirrell stuttered almost every word and often didn’t finish a sentence, as if he had become afraid of what might happen if he said the last words of his phrases. As such, Haneul and Cara found that they had to study their textbooks thoroughly in order to make any headway on their homework about werewolves. They also didn’t appear to be on track to studying any spells, because Professor Quirrell seemed too afraid of them as well.

Herbology was like Charms - much more hands on and had the potential to be a lot of fun. The various plants that lived in the greenhouses often moved of their own accord and they all have rather interesting properties and abilities. Their enjoyment of the class was also aided by the fact that Professor Sprout was very enthusiastic, and that there were a couple of Gryffindor boys in the class who told loud and funny jokes while doing practical work. On the other hand, History of Magic was incredibly boring. Amaya, who had learned muggle history before coming to Hogwarts, said that usually, history was far more interesting. The problem was the teacher - a ghost called Professor Binns, who had been so set in his ways that even after death, he continued teaching his subject. Perhaps the topics would have been interesting, but Haneul had a feeling that Professor Binns could make anything boring without even trying. He set them the most homework too - lengthy essays on different events in magical history that everyone struggled to finish.

By the end of the first week, Haneul realised she had been so busy that she had forgotten to write to her mother. She sat down on Saturday morning to begin, wondering how she would fit everything into a letter.

_ Dear Mum _

_ Sorry it’s taken me so long to write, the first week here’s been really busy. I got sorted into Ravenclaw! You were right - the common room is really nice. I’ve had all my lessons now, but you’ll probably know all about them, seeing as you had a lot of the same teachers that I have. I like Transfiguration and Charms the best right now. I think I would be able to like potions or defence against the dark arts if I had a good teacher, though. I’ve got Professor Snape for potions and Professor Quirrell for DADA. I don’t think those two will have taught you, though, seeing as Professor Snape seems too young, and this is the first year of Professor Quirrell teaching DADA. My friend, Cara, reckons that Professor Snape is amazing at potions, but I think he’s allergic to giving out praise. He always looks grumpy. Professor Quirrell is just scared of everything, so I don’t think any defence he can teach me will make me feel very confident. _

_ There are five others in my dormitory, they’re all nice enough, although one’s too quiet, and one’s too loud. I’m good friends with Cara. When do first-years learn to fly? I can’t wait to start. How’s Wendy? I think Pinoccio misses her quite a lot, although he has plenty of other owls for company in the owlery here. I miss you, but not too much, I do like it here. _

_ Haneul _


	5. One-Half

Weeks at Hogwarts flew by, Haneul found, whether spent in explosive Charms classes, dreary History of Magic lessons, or hours in the dungeons with Professor Snape, who’s mood only worsened as the weather got colder. Being further north than most of the students’ homes, Hogwarts woke up to snow earlier than Haneul had expected, and more and more students walked around the chilly corridors in their cloaks, and prefects stopped forcing the younger students to go outside during break, and let them huddle in classrooms, or common rooms. Amaya began to talk wistfully of something called central heating, which only the older students who did muggle studies seemed to understand. Whatever it was, Haneul couldn’t help but wish wizards used it when they were huddled in their last potions lesson of the term, because Amaya said it kept places warm, and Professor Snape had decided to kill the Christmas spirit with a test, so they did not have the warmth of their cauldrons to keep near to. Haneul had concluded that Professor Snape was probably cold-blooded, because he did not seem to be bothered by the fact that their breath all clouded in front of them in here.

Haneul and Cara were both going home for Christmas. Cara said Christmas was the only occasion where she didn’t have to socialise with her extended family, and could not hide her excitement at seeing her parents again. Haneul too wanted to see her mother, and had missed her. It had always been just them, and it had been odd to go so long without seeing her. They’d also not had much chance to write to each other, because the bad weather meant owls kept getting blown off course.

But for the first time, Haneul felt a strange sort of emptiness when the other girls in her dormitory described Christmasses. Theirs were all so full of family, something that Haneul had never truthfully had. Her mother was the start and end of family, which most of the time she didn’t mind, but it suddenly made her feel incomplete. Not only had she never met most of her relatives, but she knew nothing about half of them. She didn’t exactly know why she suddenly felt curious, or even why she suddenly noticed the lack of something that had never been there, but she undeniably felt it. Did she wish to have siblings, aunts, cousins and uncles that her classmates spoke of? Or did she secretly envy the way Cara talked about the jokes she and her dad played on each other? It was hard to place. Perhaps, she thought, it was because she’d never heard other people talk about their families like this, and so these feelings were natural, and would fade as the holiday faded. Maybe she just missed her mother so much that she craved more than usual, she craved the other half of something that was already filled. Haneul had never been lacking in care or love, she didn’t want someone to fill in a parenting role, she didn’t think.

Thoughts of that other half disappeared the moment Haneul alighted the Hogwarts Express and caught sight of her mother. She didn’t even need to tell herself anything, she simply stopped thinking about it. Even side-along-apparition didn’t feel uncomfortable, because to land outside the familiar house was so comforting. In fact, the Christmas holidays were strikingly normal, and it wasn’t till Haneul received a letter from Cara, in which she mentioned her dad yelling at Ian for nearly setting the family’s cat on fire, that she remembered the feelings she’d had back at school, and that they returned, in the form of a question.

“Who’s my dad?”

Minjeong had been standing by the window, untying the newspaper from the leg of the owl who had brought it, but she suddenly froze, and dropped the rolled-up paper on the floor. She attempted to smooth her actions, and her expression, but she had already betrayed her surprise.

“Why do you want to know?” She sat down at the table. “Has someone said something?” Her voice was a little too sharp to be completely caring.

“No, no one has said anything. I was just curious, you know, since I don’t know anyone in my family except you.”

“You don’t have a dad.” Minjeong said simply. “He never wanted to be involved, and neither did I. He doesn’t deserve to be spoken about.”

“But he does exist-”

“Not in your life. Don’t think about it. If you want to know when you’re of age, when you're seventeen, you can have his details. But not until then.”

“Why not?” Haneul retorted, feeling that this was very unfair.

“Because right now, you’re a child, and I’m responsible for you and making decisions for you. Once you’re of age, you’re allowed to make choices yourself, so you can choose to find out about him. But for as long as I’m able to control it, I don’t want you wasting your time on him.” She sighed. “I want you to understand things, but you’re still so young.”

The subject had not been exhausted, but Haneul knew better than to ask further about it. She knew she would not get an answer no matter how much she asked, so she dropped in order to spend the rest of the holiday without tension. It didn’t matter to her enough to sacrifice a good relationship with her mother just to discover the identity of a father that she was assured did not even want her. And because she was young, the empty, half feeling faded. It was not important enough within Haneul’s small world to know this sort of thing.

***

December easily faded into January, bringing unchanged cold weather, the only difference being that Haneul was preparing to return to Hogwarts. She felt, as expected, less eager to go back, after two weeks at home, in her comfortable world. There was no doubt that she loved Hogwarts, and enjoyed most of her lessons, but home would always be that familiar house in Rowena way, where she knew every secret and was able to find sanctuary. Haneul was half-excited, half-dreading her return, because she wanted to see her friends, but she preferred spending her days in leisure, reading or otherwise than sitting in a classroom, where she had to be focused at all times, ready to answer a question or perform a charm. And-

“The exams are getting closer.” Cara reminded Haneul on the train back to school. “Once the Easter holidays have passed, they’ll be right upon us, and this term’s bound to fly by like last term.”

The exams would determine whether the first-years moved into second year, and so on, but were also a point of competition for the Ravenclaws, who all prided themselves on being in the house that valued intelligence, and so they were all eager to be the best, even if they pretended not to. No matter how many times Amaya said she had never really cared for exams, or how many times Olivia told them all that it was doing one’s best that mattered, it was clear that at least Haneul’s dormitory was thinking about the exams soon after returning to Hogwarts. They spent the first night listening to Amaya’s account of a muggle Christmas - which Cara reasoned was not all that unlike a wizarding one, only a bit less exciting because there were no moving tree decorations, and muggle Christmas crackers sounded dull in comparison to wizarding ones. Haneul quickly tired of the talk of Christmas, because it kept bringing back the empty feeling whenever someone talked about loud dinners with their families or meeting up with a;; their cousins that they had not seen in several months.

True to herself, Cara noticed something. She really did belong in Ravenclaw, Haneul supposed, because she possessed good observational and interpretational skills.

"Are you going to tell me what’s bothering you? Or do I need to wait until next year?” She finally asked Haneul, a week after lessons had started. “Because you’ve been moping since we got back, and that’s not you. You didn’t say anything cheeky to Flitwick at all in Charms.”

Haneul shrugged, not sure how to word it exactly. “It’s just weird, you know, everyone talking about their family, when I don’t really have any.”

“You’ve got your mum, haven’t you?”

Haneul nodded. “Yeah, I know, it’s just that she’s the only family I know. She doesn’t have contact with any of her extended family. I know she has a brother, and parents, but I’ve never met them. And she told me she won’t let me find out anything about my dad until I’m of age. It’s probably just because everyone’s talking about family that I feel weird to not really have one.”

“Well, you know you don’t necessarily have to do exactly what your mum says,” Cara offered. “You can always just look for your family, or your dad without her knowing.”

“That’s virtually impossible.” Haneul rolled her eyes, but she appreciated the positivity. “I know nothing about my dad. Mum has never mentioned him, and I look like her as well.”

“If you have that attitude, no, we definitely can’t do anything, but we can think about possibilities. And maybe you actually do know things about him, but you’ve never stopped to think about it before.”

Cara’s attitude gave Haneul some temporary hope and purpose. She found herself examining every conversation she had ever had with her mother during History Of Magic, trying to unpick every word she had ever said and find something, even a little hint as to who this person was, who she belonged to but who also did not want her, perhaps even repulsed her. But there was absolutely nothing she could think of, no instances where Minjeong may have let her tongue slip, as if this person didn’t exist at all. Was he that bad that he was never thought of? But if he was so awful, he may consume Minjeong’s thoughts, so he must not be bad. Yet if that was the case, there was no reason to hide him, was there?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, apologies for how appallingly short One-Half is - at the time I wrote it, I just didn't know how else to fill it. I do edit chapters before publishing, but for a bit of perspective, you've read roughly 25 pages of my From The Sky Google Doc - and now, that doc is 323 pages long. So I can't really add anything super big, if that makes sense!
> 
> That said, I 'dealt with' two things that were issues for me in these chapters, the number of students at Hogwarts, and the Quirrell issue - so you can look at the docs linked below to see my thoughts on those:
> 
> How Many Students Are At Hogwarts? - https://docs.google.com/document/d/1U4erZnTebb56DKpFhes9_eByiEe6r9Bo9YT_pZVBn_A/edit?usp=sharing
> 
> The Quirrell Issue - https://docs.google.com/document/d/12M-7fp9Clx3J4apUdJAX6bBBRN11AwIL6kT7FWsOoQY/edit?usp=sharing
> 
> Until next week!


	6. The Empty Threat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cue me, as I will until like... Chapter 14, apologising for the low word count of these chapters. It's so weird that I used to struggle to hit 2k when my most recently finished chapter was 9.9k and I felt like I rushed it??? Well, I guess it just means that there's lots to look forward to. 
> 
> I feel like this chapter is quite formative. Voldemort, Muggle-born prejudice and the possibility of another wizarding war are brought up for the first time and I think it reflects some things that appear later on quite well. Also, I'd like to give everyone free reign to detest Keira - I hate her too. Not that she's like the female Malfoy, but I just don't like her and she has pretty backwards and harmful views. I wish I could say that she's going to magically improve, but I can't. She has a story, though obviously that's still a secret, and it's not going to be an attempt to be an apologist for her.

February was washed in with plenty of rain, meaning most of the students dreaded braving their way across the grounds for Herbology, owing to the fact that they’d usually arrive soaked through and freezing. By this time, most of the first-years were no longer scared of the prefects, and fifth and seventh year students could be seen continually fretting about their upcoming exams, which, as Haneul understood, were very important. Despite the occasional effort to think of something that might lead her to her father’s identity, Haneul found herself unable to properly dwell on it as Christmas became farther away. There was too much else at Hogwarts to enjoy, such as Quidditch matches, which were starting to get exciting as the league progressed, and the increasingly fun spells they were learning in Charms, which was quickly becoming the Ravenclaws’ favourite subject. By now, they could all light and extinguish their wands, levitate objects, and open locks. Even Transfiguration was becoming less difficult, as everyone had managed to transfigure their matches by the time February was half-gone. 

The only thing that wasn’t so enjoyable was Keira. She had already shown herself to be fairly tactless months before, in September, but had since progressed to show her dorm-mates that she was outright intolerant. She didn’t seem to like anyone much, but she had the least good to say to Amaya. At every opportunity, she made fun of Amaya’s mistakes, most of which only happened because she was muggle-born. It didn’t really matter that Amaya still sometimes looked at things with the eye of someone without magic, but Keira delighted at making fun of Amaya for fretting over things that could be solved with a wand.

“She’s just bitter.” Haneul tried to comfort Amaya after she had fretted over ripping her bag, which had been a Christmas gift. Keira had laughed cruelly before scoffing that simple charms existed to repair things like that. “She probably can’t even do a repairing charm. Don’t listen to what she said.”

“It’s obvious why she did it.” Amaya still looked glum even though a kind third-year had mended the bag. “She must not like muggle-borns.”

Haneul hesitated. She knew, of course, that certain wizards and witches existed that believed those born to muggle parents were second-class to those who already had wizard blood in their families, but she was not sure how much Amaya knew about this.

“I read all about it. The war that happened, that the dark side tried to gain power. They hate people like me. Keira’s probably one of them.”

“Most of, well, you-know-who’s supporters went to prison, you know. But I don’t think that anyone called O’Connor who was even accused. Everyone knows all the main names who are known to be in sympathy with those ideals, and most of them are in Slytherin.”

This didn’t seem to cheer Amaya up. 

“I did more reading, you know. Loads of people liked what Lord V-” she paused and corrected herself at a look from Haneul, “You-know-who had to say, even if they weren’t an outspoken supporter. So Keira’s family could be like that.”

“That’s true.” Haneul agreed. “But she can’t do anything about it. Even if she does think like that, she’s just like us, an unqualified witch. I suppose you can’t really stop anyone from having disgusting beliefs, but there’s nothing she can do to hurt you. Muggle-borns are safe, the Ministry of Magic recognises you as witches and wizards, and you-know-who is gone.”

“Is he really gone, though?” 

“I’m sure he is. If he wasn’t, how come he’s nowhere to be found?”

Unfortunately, this was entirely the wrong question for Haneul to ask, because, even though it comforted Amaya, it got Haneul herself wondering about the answer to this. Something made her worry that maybe he hadn’t gone, after all, The Boy Who Lived had been a baby, and could a baby really defeat such a powerful wizard? 

Cara provided a solution to this, in a way. Her dad, who was an Auror, had an extensive library of books that went over the dark arts, and so Cara found one of the ones in the school library that seemed to attempt to explain Voldemort’s rise and fall. It was called ‘The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts’, and was bigger than any book Haneul had ever laid eyes on.

_ Perhaps the greatest fall of the dark arts to date is the fall of Lord Voldemort in 1981, in Godric’s Hollow. For reasons not entirely known, He Who Must Not Be Named set his sights on Lily and James Potter sometime in the first half of 1980. It has been theorised that He Who Must Not Be Named had wished the Potters to join his side, as they were incredibly talented, although this is doubtful, as Lily Evans was a muggle-born witch. Rather than due to their refusal to join the dark side, it is believed that the Potters were simply an obstacle to He Who Must Not Be Named’s power, as they were close to Albus Dumbledore. Whatever the reason, the Potters were forced into hiding and remained elusive until late October of 1981. However, it may have been fortunate for the wider wizarding community that He Who Must Not Be Named found the Potters, as it led to his destruction. On October 31, 1981, the Dark Lord travelled to Godric’s Hollow, the residence of the Potters, and succeeded in murdering Lily and James. Yet when he turned his wand upon the barely one-year-old, Harry Potter, he was destroyed. Little is known about why or how He Who Must Not Be Named was destroyed, or where he or his body may be. Harry Potter currently resides with muggle relatives, so it is unknown if he possesses strange powers which the rest of the wizarding community do not.  _

“So, in theory, he could be alive?” Haneul asked, raising an eyebrow at Cara.

“Well, yeah, but not many people think he is. Either way, he’s too weak to keep gaining power. If he is still alive, but he’s really weak, he’s kind of an empty threat, don’t you think? It’s like me threatening Professor Snape or something. I wouldn’t stand a chance, and everyone would know it.”

Haneul nodded slowly and thoughtfully. “But if he’s so weak, why doesn’t someone just finish him off?”

“They don’t know where he is, do they? And I don’t blame the Ministry for not wanting to look for him. He’s not exactly bothering anyone right now, is he?”

Rationally, Cara was right, and Haneul knew it. You-know-who wasn’t really something she could be worried about, when he was a faceless terror that was probably weaker than she was. But it didn’t stop her from dreaming of an awful, ghostly white skeleton, casting curses around. Keira was standing there, laughing wildly and maniacally, shrieking that because she had gone to find the Dark Lord, she would become Minister for Magic, and banish all muggle-borns to an island out to sea. Then Amaya was dragged away by two Professor Snapes who had the same skeleton faces as Voldemort. It was quite scary, even looking back the next day, despite how ludicrous the dream had been. Keira would never want You-know-who to return, and Professor Snape, while certainly rather mean and grumpy, was not about to whisk anyone off to prison. 

March arrived with slightly more sun, but not much less rain than February. Ravenclaw had beaten Slytherin in their match in the second-to-last week of February, leaving the whole house to discuss excitedly how they might have a chance at winning the inter-house Quidditch tournament, which would make them likely to win the inter-house championship too. It depended little on how the Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff match went, as both teams had lost all their matches so far and most likely did not have a chance at winning the cup. But if Slytherin won their match against Hufflepuff by a lot of points, then Ravenclaw would have to completely flatten Gryffindor in order to win. If Hufflepuff beat Slytherin, then Ravenclaw would probably not have to beat Gryffindor by as many points to win the cup. Even Haneul, who had never been much of a quidditch fan before coming to Hogwarts, was excited, and loved going to see the matches, even if Ravenclaw weren’t playing. 

By now, all of the girls in the dormitory had collectively decided to give Keira the silent treatment, after she had loudly said how unfortunate it was that muggles didn’t use owls, and couldn’t send their children letters at Hogwarts. This was particularly targeted, as Amaya had mentioned only the previous day that she wished her parents would at least try to learn to use owl post, so she could talk to them like all the rest. Even Violet, who usually didn’t involve herself in anything, gave Keira a scathing look, which was probably more frightening than Olivia’s loud outburst, because she never usually showed anything so severe as that. They were probably much better off for ignoring Keira as well, Haneul thought, because she had no chance to say anything rude to anyone, so eventually stopped trying after several failed attempts to engage Cara in an argument.

They all were delighted, even Olivia, Keira’s partner, in potions, when Keira succeeded at setting her cauldron, and temporarily her hair, on fire, as they were brewing a Forgetfulness Potion. Even better, Professor Snape, who seemed to have grown to dislike Keira more than anyone in the class, put the fire out by shooting water out of his wand, a quantity of which splashed Keira in the face. He then raised his voice for the first time since the first-years had started the year, and shouted at her and Olivia for being idiots. Admittedly, it was not so excellent when Professor Snape took twenty points from Ravenclaw, or when he snapped at Haneul and Cara for laughing behind their cauldron. He angrily pronounced that there was no need for any of them to take a Forgetfulness Potion, as they clearly had all forgotten proper conduct without it.

“That was great.” Cara said gleefully, as they made their way up from the dungeons after the lesson. “Just what she needs, to get shouted at. She deserves it.”

“He took twenty points from Ravenclaw though! I bet he loved that.” Haneul glanced at the giant glass hourglasses, which recorded the points each house had. Ravenclaw’s was looking emptier than it had before the lesson. “Come on, we’ll be late for Transfiguration, he made us miss break, remember?”

The two hurried off to Transfiguration, arriving a few minutes late, along with the other Ravenclaws from Potions. 

“And may I ask, now you all have decided to grace us with your presence, why all of you are late for my lesson?” Professor McGonagall asked, one of her eyebrows arched. She narrowed her eyes and settled on Amaya. “Gulati, you explain.”

“Sorry, Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape kept us back in Potions, because Keira set fire to the classroom.” Her delight was not altogether hidden.

“I see.” Professor McGonagall looked piercingly at Keira, who had gone red. “Sit down, all of you. We are continuing on our work with Switching Spells.” Haneul felt exceptionally glad that Professor McGonagall was not head of Ravenclaw, as it would have most likely meant they were either shouted at, lost more points, or both. 

As it happened, something worse than losing points, or Snape shouting greeted the class in Charms, after lunch. Professor Flitwick did not start the class as he usually did, with instructions for that day’s charm, but instead looked far more serious as he climbed onto the stack of books behind his desk that he stood on to be able to see over.

“Now, your exams are not far away, students. The Easter holidays will soon be upon us, and not too long after that, there will be no time at all until the exams. I suggest you all begin revising soon, as there will be lots to cover. Personally, I try to examine students on everything we have studied this year in the written paper, and I expect your other teachers will do the same. You will have a written paper in the mornings, and then something practical in the afternoon.” Catching sight of their horrified expressions, he gave them all a friendly smile. “You needn’t all look so scared, these exams are more of a progress check. If you perform as well as you do in class, I am sure you will all pass your Charms exams with flying colours, and Professor McGonagall was telling me only yesterday that she is very pleased with your Transfiguration work.”

Haneul was not at all pleased at this, and spent considerable time at dinner telling this to Cara.

“He’s lying, he must be. Even Mum told me to do well on these exams so that I get into the second year. Why’s he trying to pretend like they’re not important?”

“Doesn’t want us to get worried yet, does he? I’ll bet once April or May hit, him and all the teachers will start telling us how important they are and we’ll all feel bad for not revising enough. I think for once, Ian is right about something. He told me that first year exams matter a lot, and it doesn’t seem like an empty threat.”


	7. Examinations

It was hard to even think about Voldemort as the atmosphere within the castle became tenser and more emotionally charged for so many different reasons that weren’t related to him. As soon as the Easter Holidays began, halfway through March, the Ravenclaw prefects from seventh year stood up and told everyone to not make any noise in the day in the common room, as many students would be studying. Everyone in third year or above started revising so vigorously that Haneul noticed several fifth-years who often slept in the common room, falling asleep on their books and notes. Owing to this, many of the first and second years, who were not revising as much, spent more time in the grounds as the weather got better.

The grounds were expansive and diverse, and covered perhaps a wider area than the massive castle. During the holidays, Haneul and Cara amused themselves walking around them, examining the Whomping Willow from afar and sometimes bringing their work out as well. It was not yet too hot, and there were plenty of comfortable places to sit and lounge under trees or on the sloping lawns in front of the oak front doors. Beyond the grounds was the Forbidden Forest, a dark and mysterious place that students were not allowed into. There were all sorts of rumours about what actually lay in the trees, from werewolves to vampires to giants to many headed monsters. Nothing, of course, was ever truly confirmed, most likely to keep fear about the place up, and stop students from wanting to enter. Even Ian stayed out of the forest, it was the only curb to his recklessness, according to Cara.

All too soon, the Easter holidays were over too. While lessons at Hogwarts were certainly enjoyable and interesting, it was undeniable that Hogwarts was simply more fun for children when there were no lessons to attend. Furthermore, there was now an uncomfortable amount of talk about the exams. Even Professor Binns took a break from his usual monotonous babble to remind the class that they would need to go over their notes.In the first lesson back, Professor McGonagall spent twenty minutes going over everything they needed to revise - which seemed like a lot more than Haneul had thought they had to. 

“These exams are extremely important for me to be able to assess your progress in Transfiguration, but you will also want to take good care to do your best as they are also designed to help you prepare for your O.W.Ls, which will be in fifth year. I suggest you all revise and take them seriously.” She gave them all a look that seemed to say that if they didn’t, she would be quite angry.

Professor Sprout, usually so jolly, also took some time to prepare the students.

“Now,” she told them all, putting down her trowel, “I’m not usually too worried about exam results, but do make sure you try your best, so you can all have something to show for yourselves after a year of hard work.”

Exam thoughts were put temporarily on hold, however, in the last week of May. Slytherin had beaten Hufflepuff two-hundred-and-seventy to thirty, and this meant Ravenclaw had to win by even more than that in their match against Gryffindor. It was the most tense Haneul had ever seen Hogwarts, and a sudden rivalry on principle had sprung up between Slytherins and Ravenclaws, who often got on fairly well with each other. Professor Snape’s bad mood hit an all-time low during Potions, where he seemed to want to find every reason to detest the Ravenclaw students, frequently hissing derogatory things about their potions skills under his breath. Maybe it was because they had been defeated by Slytherin, or simply because they were not Ravenclaws, but he seemed to have less resentment towards the Hufflepuffs, and was a hundred percent more likely to blame a Ravenclaw student, usually Keira, for anything that went wrong in lessons.

That was a strange thing which Haneul had no time to think about. Over Christmas, Professor Snape seemed to have found a new hatred for the students. He glared at them more malevolently, and seemed to view the necessity to speak to his classes as some kind of torture, even if it was something bad. When it came to returning homework, he would be likely to throw it at students, as if it was some sort of nasty dead animal. Haneul noticed nothing, not because she was unobservant, which she certainly wasn’t, but because she spent more time thinking about other things, such as the Ravenclaw versus Hufflepuff quidditch match, or how on earth she was going to pass her Transfiguration exam when there was so much to cover. 

The Ravenclaws suffered another blow in the last week of May, when they missed out on the quidditch cup. They had won the match, but not by enough points, meaning the cup went to a gleeful Slytherin. It was only after a particularly horrible Potions lesson, where Professor Snape had reminded them that if they gave a performance like the Ravenclaw quidditch team in their exams, that Cara brought up the steak of hatred that Haneul had failed to notice.

“He’s got it in for you. I don’t care how good he is at Potions, he’s still got it in for you.” She said, pointing at haneul with a forkful of potato.

“Who?” Asked Haneul, both entirely focussed, thinking about how delighted Professor Snape might be if she failed her exam.

“Professor Snape. He actually detests you.”

“I don’t think that’s personal.” Haneul shrugged. “It’s an occupational hazard of being a Ravenclaw. Or not a Slytherin.”

“No, I’m not mistaken here. He can’t even stand to look at you. He doesn’t like Keira, but he’ll still look at her, even if he just wants to find something wrong with her potion. But you’re good at Potions. You get good marks, and he still detests you.”

Haneul actually laughed. 

“I really doubt that he hates me. He doesn’t like  _ anyone _ , not at all. You're reading into this too much. Sometimes, I think he only became a teacher so he could spend all day criticising people, seeing as that’s basically his only hobby, other than being a real-life example of why it’s a good idea to invest in shampoo.”

This made Cara smile slightly, and she definitely looked less serious. 

“He doesn’t seem that petty, though…” She said, sounding unconvinced.

“Doesn’t he? I know you think he’s a prodigy, but that doesn’t mean he’s immune to being petty. If anything, it makes it worse. He ought to be too intelligent and too mature to be petty, but he isn’t.” 

Haneul still did not believe Cara, even after their latest Potions lesson. Their Herbicide had been perfect, but Professor Snape seemed to have magically forgotten it. But, Haneul thought, he had been the exact same about some Hufflepuffs’ Herbicide which had been the same as hers and Cara’s.

June barely had time to shine her rays of sunlight when the long-awaited, and dreaded, exams were upon the castle. The first exam for the first-years was Charms, which was a relief for Haneul because she didn’t find the questions too hard, and had relatively good success in levitating a small locked trunk, before unlocking it. History of Magic was boring as the lessons, but at least there was something to do for once, rather than staring blankly out of the window. There was no practical exam for History of Magic, so the afternoon was devoted to revising Astronomy before the exam in the evening, or getting a few hours of sleep in order to be able to stay awake throughout it. Many of the first-years attempted to drink coffee to keep themselves energised, but most, Haneul included, found it quite disgusting. Transfiguration was much harder than Charms, as it had much more theory, but also far harder spells. Cara fretted afterwards about whether the ink pot, which she had been asked to turn into a bird, still looked like it was made from glass.

Herbology turned out to be rather funny. The written exam in the morning went smoothly, but in the afternoon, while dealing with Puffapods, Amaya dropped her bowl and caused the entire greenhouse to burst into laughter, which they struggled to keep silent as flowers burst into bloom everywhere, causing the exam to be temporarily halted while Professor Sprout vanished the flowers and gave Amaya some new Puffapods. It was a shame that the same could not be said for Potions, although this was not really surprising. Haneul was glad she had revised her notes extensively, because Professor Snape seemed to have tried to make the widest possible range of questions, so that students would be caught out with material they had not thought to revise. The practical brought back memories of their first lesson, as they had to brew the Cure For Boils in silence, and alone, while Professor Snape stalked about the classroom, making notes on a clipboard and glaring at anyone who met his eyes. The only good thing about the exam was that it took place in the dungeons, which were not as hot as the rest of the school, so it was not unbearable to have cauldron fires lit. Defence Against the Dark Arts was a complete joke. While the written paper was fairly routine, and covered the normal things outlined in the textbook, the practical may well have not happened. Professor Quirrell was so afraid of curses that he could barely tell them what he wanted them to demonstrate, so most students either only had to perform one spell, or even none at all. One of the Gryffindors swore he had barely raised his wand before being told he could go.

At last, they were finished. The whole school seemed to heave a giant sigh of relief at the end of that Friday, as every student in the school did not have to worry about exams, for at least another year. If you were in seventh year, you never had to worry about it ever again. For most of the school, there would be a whole, glorious, week before they would receive their results, and then before long, it would be the summer holidays - two whole months of rest and relaxation, except for their holiday homework, which Haneul knew Professor Snape could be counted on to give them loads.

But Haneul could not find herself caring about this when she got back the results for her exams. She had done well in all of them, she was relieved to find. The biggest surprise came for her in Potions, when she discovered she had scored full marks, even though Professor Snape practically threw her exam paper at her as if it was a filthy rag.

“See?” Haneul whispered to Cara as Professor Snape moved to the Hufflepuff side of the classroom to give back their papers. “He doesn’t hate me specifically, otherwise I’d have a zero.”

“Well, maybe-”

“Shin and Whittle seem to have something more important than my feedback to discuss.” Professor Snape said, almost lazily. “Do enlighten us, I am sure whatever it is surely more riveting and beneficial than whatever  _ I _ have to say.” He stared at them, his black eyes piercing them as they sat silently. He then raised an eyebrow and his lip curled. 

“Clearly not… Well, that must be five points from Ravenclaw then, for discussing frivolous and unimportant matters in my lessons.” He turned back to handing out papers, his sneer noticeable. 

“You were wrong.” Haneul scowled as they made their way out of the dungeons twenty minutes later. Professor Snape had treated them all to a speech of where they had come short in the exams. “If he was somehow prejudiced against me, he wouldn't have said anything about you whispering.” She rolled her eyes. "You're just overly analytical."

Cara just stared darkly ahead, looking annoyed, but then suddenly chuckled.

“What?” Haneul asked severely, still angry.”

Cara shook her head. “Nothing, it’s nothing. Suddenly thought of something that made me laugh, but it’s gone out of my head now.”

Even if it had apparently gone from her head, Cara kept smirking all the way through break, and only stopped when Professor McGonagall asked her sharply what was so funny. It was a bit odd, but then again, Haneul was sure that ti=hings beyond normal understanding went on inside Cara’s head. 

Finally, the last day was here. There would be lessons all day, but they would end half an hour early, in order to give students time to pack, and then there would be an end-of-term feast, where the house cup was awarded. Luckily, because it was a Friday Haneul did not have Potions - Professor Snape had said goodbye to them by giving them a long and horrible essay to do over the summer. They had History of Magic in the morning, but it was more bearable because everyone knew it was the last day, and most people spent the lesson playing hangman on scraps of parchment or talking in low whispers about their plans for the summer. In Transfiguration, Professor McGonagall showed them all some exciting spells, such as casting things from thin air or even turning some of their desks into pigs and back again. Then they stuttered to the end of Defence Against the Dark Arts quite a lot better than usual, as Professor Quirrell let them play games, although he gave a small scream every time someone shouted too loudly. 

Packing was quite bittersweet. Haneul would miss her now familiar dormitory, and seeing her friends every day, but she would be glad for some time at home where she could do whatever she wanted. She was not happy that it would be a whole two months before she could use magic again, but settled herself in knowing that she could still write to Cara and Amaya, who had convinced her parents to at least allow owls to come to their house, even if they would not buy one. The leaving feast was not as exciting as the start-of-term one, because there were no nerves about the sorting, and Slytherin had won the house cup due to their success in the quidditch cup. Professor Snape looked about as close to happy as it was for him to look, he had a sort of smile, but mostly looked triumphant and satisfied. 

It had been a good year, and even in years to come, when there was little to smile about, these sorts of memories would make the corners of Haneul’s lips turn up, because of how simple and carefree it had all been, and how at that point, the future was clear and bright. Real worries didn’t exist when even after some struggles, you would alight from the red steam engine and go back to your mother’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, fun fact, this is the most heavily-edited chapter so far - any readers who've read the original will probably be able to spot it. It's not really a massive plot change, I just disliked a lot of my wording. I'll explain what I changed, and why, later on. I think it'll make sense at a later date, and I think that people will understand why I made the changes that I did. 
> 
> It's kinda sad that my chapter called 'Christmas' won't be able to come out on actual Christmas, because it's 3 chapters away - so even if I did a bonus Christmas Day publish, it still wouldn't come out until next week. Anyway, I don't think I have anything else to say, and this week I don't have any cool docs to share with you (because anything I could analyse is a spoiler). I got good feedback from those two explanatory things I shared last week, I'll do more of them in future when I feel that it's right.


	8. That Recognition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back! Again, some big-ish edits were made to these (or rather, it feels big to me). I hope that people are enjoying the more low-key things happening - it's really nice for me to be able to look over such simple and carefree chapters considering what I'm writing right now. There's a document in the notes of the next chapter - I hope you'll find that interesting!
> 
> Also - I apologise for how short this chapter is (again) - the interlude that was removed (it's explained in there) made it longer. Someone did say they thought I wrote chunky chapters - and I thought that was interesting considering how much longer my chapters are now. Most of them are 7k+ as I've said, so usually one single chapter that I write these days has a higher word count than a whole release of two chapters.

Minjeong was more than excited to hear all about Haneul’s year, it seemed, as she had clearly enjoyed her own experience of the school and wanted to hear her daughter’s opinion after she’d had a taste of Hogwarts too.

“Tell me more about all your teachers. There must be some new ones since I left, I don’t imagine there’s been no change in the staff in eleven years.”

“I think lots of the teachers are the same. I’ve got Professor McGonagall for Transfiguration, Sprout for Herbology, Flitwick for Charms, Snape for Potions, Binns for History of Magic and Quirrell for Defence Against the dark arts.”

“Oh, I remember some of them.” Minjeong smiled to herself. “McGonagall used to get awfully angry with my friends and I for being out of bed too late.” She chuckled. “Flitwick was always so supportive, best one to have as head of house if you ask me. I remember Professor Sprout of course, and unfortunately no-one can forget Binns. Is he still boring?”

Haneul nodded. “It’s hard not to fall asleep in his lessons.”

“Just as I remember it. I haven’t heard of Snape or Quirrell, though. Neither taught me. What’re they like?”

“Quirrell’s a laughing stock. Nervous of everything, can’t even bring himself to teach us any kinds of useful spells or anything. He stammers from the textbook, I might as well teach myself.” Haneul rolled her eyes. “Professor Snape is… grumpy. He absolutely hates everyone who osn’t in his house, but I suppose he knows what he’s doing, if you listen and follow instructions it’s hard to go wrong.”

“He hates  _ everyone _ ? That seems odd, I thought Dumbledore took great care in who he hired.” Minjeong knitted her brows together. “Why would he be a teacher, if he doesn’t enjoy it?”

“Not a clue.” Haneul shrugged and walked over to the window, where two owls had arrived. She opened it. “Professor Dumbledore hired Quirrell too, and he can’t teach either. So maybe he’s not as perceptive as you think, or maybe nobody else wanted to teach Potions. The dungeons aren’t the most welcoming environment.”

Minjeong pursed her lips, but said nothing. Upon further inspection, the two owls carried letters for Haneul - one from Hogwarts, detailing the new books that she would need for her second year, and one from Cara, who had promised to write but had not done so until now, a good three weeks into the holiday.

_ Dear Haneul _

_ How has your summer gone so far? Sorry I didn’t write sooner - Ian’s been using the family owl nonstop. I’m trying to convince Mum and Dad to get me one of my own. Did you finish Binns’ essay? I had to get Dad to help me - I don’t remember anything he told us about vampire councils. I don’t know if I’ll ever finish Snape’s, it’s so hard, are you having any luck? _

_ We’re going to Diagon Alley next Thursday, to get all the new books. Can you make it then? I want to see you before school starts - it’s dead boring with Ian, he keeps going on and on about how much of a swot I am. Bad news for him, He’s going into O.W.L year and Mum and Dad have said they expect him to actually work. His exam results weren’t as good as mine, so he’s second best to me for a change. I know I shouldn’t really be glad about that, but I can’t help it. _

_ Let me know about Diagon Alley A.S.A.P _

_ \- Cara _

Haneul couldn’t hide a smile as she read the letter, glad at last for some contact from Cara. She’d written to Amaya a few times, each time hearing about odd muggle contraptions that substituted for magic. It was interesting, if a little confusing. To her about how muggles got by day to day without self-washing clothes spells or magical fire.

“Can we go to Diagon Alley when Cara’s there?” Haneul asked her mother, handing her the letter.

Minjeong read it quickly, and then nodded. “I think so. I have some business to attend to in London, so it’ll be good if you have something to do while I’m engaged.” She said, distractedly looking out of the window.

Haneul rushed up to her room to write Cara a response. Her room was light and airy, like the Ravenclaw common room, and a nice size too. Since Haneul was an only child, she didn’t have to share. Her bed was along one wall, and her desk opposite, in front of the windows which looked out onto the street. Along another wall, Haneul’s trunk was propped open, with some books still inside, others on her desk or beside it. Her Hogwarts robes had been removed for washing, so all that remained was scraps of parchment with notes on them or old quills. Pinocchio was on a perch near the window too, at that moment sleeping under his wing. Haneul sat at her desk and pulled a fresh sheet of parchment on top of her nearly-finished Potions essay.

_ Hi Cara! _

_Mum says I can go!_ _We can meet somewhere there. I got the booklist today, did you as well? There’s not that much stuff, is there?_

_ I finished Binns’ essay, though I had to make my handwriting bigger than usual - there’s almost nothing in the textbook and Mum just said she didn’t remember studying the topic very much because Binns was just as boring when she was at Hogwarts, so she wasn’t much help. I haven’t finished the one for Snape yet though, but I think I’m nearly there. He’ll find something wrong with it anyway, even if I include N.E.W.T level stuff, so I’m not sweating it too much.  _

_ Hope Ian isn’t bothering you too much _

_ \- Haneul _

Diagon Alley was more packed than it had been the year before, probably owing to the fact that so many Hogwarts students had, like Haneul and Cara, decided to come sooner rather than later to buy their books. Cara found Haneul outside the bookshop, Flourish and Blotts, not long after she had entered the alley through the Leaky Cauldron. Minjeong mysteriously disappeared after she had made sure Haneul had found Cara, and the two went into the bookshop, talking animatedly about the holiday so far, and their plans for second year.

“We can try for the house quidditch team this year, I think.” Cara said, as they found copies of  _ The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2 _ . “Are you going to try out?”

Haneul shook her head. “I’m not great on a broom.”

“I think I might. Ian won’t be playing this year, so I think I’ll be a lot better without having him as an opponent.”

“If you get on, you’d better win us the quidditch cup. The Slytherins won’t ever let us live down another defeat like last year.”

***

_ As mentioned to my beta readers, I originally included an interlude here that displays a conversation outside of Haneul’s experience. I’ve since made the choice to remove it, because it contains a spoiler that, in the original draft, the audience was given in the prologue. This created a sense of dramatic irony, where the audience knew (or could easily infer) something that Haneul did not. Rather than following her path to finding it from a more omniscient perspective, next to the narrator, I decided that the audience should see the story next to Haneul, and would therefore need to wait to know this detail. The interlude is the reason why the chapter is named ‘That Recognition’, which now seems unclear as you do not get the interlude. Rather than changing the title, I wanted to make readers aware of a change in process, so I have decided not to change the name of the chapter, and make it known that something was cut out here. Perhaps when the detail is revealed through the story, I will share this interlude - and any others that may have been cut. _

***

After buying their books, Haneul and Cara went to Scribbulus' to get new quills and ink, as they had gone through so many during their previous year. They were not pleased to see Keira O’Connor, a girl in their dormitory, there with her parents. They had grown to particularly dislike Keira fro, the way that she treated Amaya Gulati, another girl in their dormitory, for reasons which Haneul suspected were to do with Amaya being muggle-born. Keira did not speak to them, but looked at the two of them nastily. Haneul saw her whispering to her mother, who looked as unpleasant as she did, and could have sworn she heard something to do with her name and ‘hasn’t got a father’. Haneul simply ignored this, because she knew well by now that nothing Keira had to say was worth very much, and was usually said just to get a rise out of people. Haneul wasn’t likely to feel insecure about anything if it was brought up by Keira.

By the time they had finished in Scribbulus’ and Madam Malkin’s, Minjeong had reappeared and was standing just by the archway into Diagon Alley, looking up at the shop signs. She had let her long black hair out of its usual bun, and it fluttered in the slight breeze, tumbling down past her waist. Her cloak was slung over one arm, because it was a warm day. Although she asked Haneul about her shopping, she was very distracted by something, although she heavily denied this when Haneul asked if something was bothering her. She remained in deep thought even after they returned home, not really looking at anything properly, lost inside her own head.

The thought of returning to Hogwarts was both better and worse than the thought of going there for the first time. On one hand, Haneul had all her friends, favourite lessons and using magic to look forward to, and now viewed the place as a sort of second home. But she would not enjoy the homework, which she was sure would be increased this year, or having to sit through certain lessons, The thought that she had to continue doing History of Magic until the age of 16 was so awful that haneul almost disagreed with it on a moral level, and wished that perhaps Professor Binns would finally retire and let someone, preferable alive, teach the class instead. She also hoped that perhaps a bit of good weather would have brightened up Professor Snape, and temporarily amused herself thinking about him with a tan instead of sallow skin.

It was definitely an improvement to have Minjeong being less worried and fretful about sending Haneul off to Hogwarts this time. Haneul much preferred being able to get on the train without worrying for her mother’s sanity, and herself felt less apprehensive about saying goodbye. The last time she had done this, she was worrying to no end about whether she would be put in Ravenclaw - something that seemed almost laughable in hindsight. Of course, there had been that moment, the one horrible moment where she might have been put in Slytherin, because of a bloodline…

“He was a Slytherin.” Haneul said, rather frankly to Cara once she had sat down.

“What? Who?” Cara asked as she put her trunk on the rack. 

“My dad. I just remembered, at the sorting, the hat told me that I had a bloodline in Slytherin. It wanted to put me in there, but I didn’t want to be in Slytherin. I only just thought about it now, but that must mean my dad was in Slytherin.”

“But that makes it so much easier, doesn’t it? It means you can figure out who he is more simply!” An excited, almost hungry sort of smile was on Cara’s face.

Haneul laughed, slightly bitterly. 

“Yeah, it just means I can rule out three-quarters of people. Now I just have to go and question every Slytherin ever.”


	9. The Owls

Second-year was not all too different from first-year, and only felt like a step up because Haneul was no longer one of the youngest students in the school, and was no longer called an ‘ickle firstie’ by Peeves, the poltergeist. She and Cara were back in their old dorm with Keira, Amaya, Olivia and Violet, and they still had classes with the same groups of Hufflepuffs, Gryffindors and Slytherins as the previous year. The only difference was that they now had homework sessions, in the Study Hall, a room near the library. Ian had told Cara that the enjoyment of these periods was all down to what teacher you had overseeing it, and that if you were unlucky, such periods were torture.

“Just our luck.” Amaya groaned when they received their timetables. “We’ve got Snape. It’s going to be horrible.”

Professor Snape had not brightened his mood over the summer, and had started the first lesson of the year by telling the class that he had adjusted the syllabus to make it harder, because clearly last year’s work had been too easy for some, and caused them to slack off. He had then given them the sort of smile that let them know only he would be enjoying the year. After that, he set them a very fiddly potion, and a long essay about brewing it. He was not made any nicer by being above ground either. He had practically stormed into the first homework session, looking thoroughly annoyed to have been made to leave his underground dwellings. The first thing he did was tell them not to talk, before he took his seat behind the teacher’s desk at the top of the room and bent over some parchment, scowling. 

Haneul took no notice of him and instead decided to make a start on her Potions essay, knowing she would be glad later if she finished it while she was still awake. Swelling Solution was probably not the hardest potion in the world to brew, but it was more confusing than anything that they had brewed in the first year. On top of that, the essay they had to write felt more like maths than potions, as they had to explain the best ratios of ingredients and why they caused the best effects. It was difficult and slightly dull, and the textbook wasn’t much help. Professor Snape had made them all copy down some complicated notes on the topic, but she couldn’t remember everything he’d told them in the lesson. It took at least five reads to fully grasp what he had been talking about, and even then, it was very difficult to put into words. It took nearly the whole period to get the essay. 

Once she had finished, Haneul decided that she would hand the essay in to Professor Snape now, as he had told the class they could do so if they happened to finish it early, back when he set it. Rolling it up, she slipped off the bench as quietly as possible, and crept towards Professor Snape’s desk sure that if she was too loud, he or another student would probably snap at her. He did not notice her until she was right in front of the desk, and looked up sharply. He appeared to have been writing on a piece of parchment that was on top of an open book, and he snapped the book shut over the parchment with such a loud thud that a few people jumped violently or looked up, searching for the disturbance. Professor Snape snatched the essay from Haneul’s hand and glared at her so malevolently that she practically ran back to where she had been sitting, worried that he might take fifty points from Ravenclaw. 

At dinner, Cara leaned closer to Haneul, a meaningful expression on her face. 

“What was Professor Snape writing?” She asked in a low voice, scanning the staff table, checking where Professor Snape was.

Haneul shrugged and swallowed her mouthful of chop. “I didn’t see. Why does it matter?”

“Because he looked so…  _ dodgy _ .” She replied, knowingly. “Like he was  _ up to something _ .”

“I doubt that. He’s a teacher. Not exactly a suspicious profession. He just seems like the type to be really private, and that was his private mail.”

“If it was nothing suspicious, he wouldn’t have been so defensive. I’m telling you, that’s not a normal way to act, even for Snape.”

Haneul rolled her eyes. “He was probably just writing to order more weird potion ingredients, and didn’t want me to see in case I get a headstart on our next lesson. I don’t even know if it was a letter, really. Perhaps he’s trying to figure out how to turn into a bat or something.”

Cara opened her mouth to say something, but Amaya sat down at that moment, looking both annoyed and upset. Before Cara had so much as raised an eyebrow, Amaya had opened her mouth and said, with a groan,

“I  _ hate _ Snape. With a burning passion inside my soul.”

“Why? Or is this a general comment on how you’ve always felt?” Cara asked, interestedly, and she and Haneul leaned in.

“He gave me a  _ detention _ .” Amaya started stabbing at her carrots as if they had done her a great personal wrong.

“For what, exactly?” Haneul had not yet seen anything make Professor Snape angry enough to give someone a detention. 

“I dropped all my books on the way up to Ravenclaw tower. And I swore, as you do, and he happened to hear me, and he gave me a detention.” Amaya started to eat grumpily.

“He was taking out his anger on you.” Haneul reassured Amaya. “He’s in a bad mood because I disturbed his top-secret letter writing.” 

“Did I hear that right?” Keira asked loftily as she sat down. “The mudblood got a  _ detention _ ?”

The effect of this was almost immediate. Even Olivia and Violet, who had not been listening to the conversation, whipped round in their seats, looking shocked. Haneul and Cara were glaring daggers at Keira, and Amaya had dropped her fork.

“You didn’t…” Cara said in a soft, but dangerous voice. “Take that back.”

“How DARE you!” At first, Haneul was not sure who had shouted, and then she realised it was Violet, who had never raised her voice before.

“You know, I’ve really had enough of you, Keira O’Connor.” Violet spat Keira’s name with the kind of contempt that Professor Snape would have been proud of. “Would it kill you, would it be so hard to  _ not _ be a prejudiced, stupid cow?” At this point, several other people at the table had looked up from their food and conversations to see what was going on.

Keira opened her mouth, but Violet overrode her.

“You’re meant to be a Ravenclaw. One of our values is meant to be acceptance. You brag nonstop about how your whole family is in Ravenclaw, but I really don’t know how you got in here. All I get from you is stupidity.” She glared at Keira one last time before turning back to her food.

Silence ensued. It was a mixture of shock and awe, because nobody had heard Violet talk so passionately or forcefully about anything in the past, and some at the table had never even heard her talk. Her words seemed to have more weight than anyone else’s would, probably because she was usually so quiet and seemingly uninteresting. Even Keira looked abashed, although she did not say anything and tried to avert her eyes from everyone else at the table. She had never been popular, her views always seen as disgusting by the others in her dormitory, but Violet had cleverly made sure more people would know, and perhaps it would be spread throughout the house that someone amongst them had a perspective that was so blatantly against a house value. Even Amaya, usually so loud and outspoken, was lost for words, although she did not look so glum as she had when she first sat down.

Amaya’s mood picked up even more after her detention. Not because she had particularly enjoyed sorting rotten from good flobberworms, but because she had stumbled across some knowledge. This knowledge also greatly piqued Cara’s interest.

“You won’t believe what I saw.” Amaya proclaimed when she got back to the common room on Thursday evening, after her detention.

“What is it?” Cara asked, and Haneul gladly looked up from her Herobology essay, because she was finding it even more difficult than potions homework.

“Well.” Amaya took a seat and looked at both of them with a dormantly excited expression. “I was just in my detention, right, and I saw Snape writing something really fishy.”

Cara’s eyebrows shot up. “What was it?”

“I think it was a letter. I only saw a couple of lines, but they said ‘I can give it to you by next week, but I will have to be careful to avoid detection’.”

“A letter?” Cara glanced at Haneul. “He must have been doing that when you saw him as well!”

“Haneul saw something?” Amaya followed Cara’s gaze.

In the homework session, when I went to give him my essay, he suddenly hid what he’d been writing, and he looked really angry. Cara said it was dodgy.”

Cara hesitated for a moment, she looked on the verge of saying something, before she swallowed and opened her mouth.

“I don’t want to accuse anyone of anything… But Ian told me some things about Professor Snape. One of his friends' parents was at Hogwarts at the same time as him, and apparently he was good friends with a lot of people who became Death Eaters after they left. You know, You-know-who’s followers. And, well, he was into the dark arts too, according to rumours, some say that’s the job he really wants. Not the potions teacher. I’m not sure how much I believe, if any, but it does seem… weird. Maybe I’m being prejudiced, but what if he’s writing letters to people involved in the dark arts?”

“But how can he be? I thought everyone who supported You-know-who went to prison?” Amaya asked in a deadly whisper.

“Not everyone.” Haneul said suddenly, remembering something. “Mum said that after You-know-who disappeared, some people came out of trances, and said they’d been put under powerful, dark spells and forced to do his bidding. But Mum said she thinks that some of them might have been pretending to have been bewitched, to avoid prison. So some people who still believe in You-know-who’s ideas aren’t in prison. She mostly said this kind of thing in passing, just as an offhand comment, but it would definitely make sense, I think.”

Amaya covered her hand with her mouth as Cara nodded, with a grim expression on her face. 

“Was Professor Snape accused of that kind of activity?” Amaya asked.

Cara looked thoughtful. “I don’t know. Mum and Dad have never said anything about it, and they really  _ hate _ dark wizards, and people accused of practicing the dark arts.”

“My mum didn’t know who he was, she probably would if he had been involved, right? She works in the Ministry of Magic.”

They spent the rest of the evening coming up with mostly ridiculous ideas of what Professor Snape was up to, although the idea of him being a dark wizard could not fully push its way out of their minds. Haneul had to admit that something about him did seem a little dark, perhaps his moods or the fact that he wore the same black every day, and retained an almost constantly impassive expression unless he was glaring at you. It didn’t really seem possible from a logical standing, for a teacher to secretly be a dark wizard, it didn’t seem the right profession. But then again, those letters were suspicious and somewhat incriminating. What kind of things was he trying to send to people without anyone knowing? What was so bad that it would be incriminating for him to have and be exchanging with other people, and why did it make him so incredibly defensive?

Autumn took hold only briefly on the castle, for just long enough for Cara to become the newest chaser on the Ravenclaw quidditch team, before winter swept itself on with a series of harsh winds that cut at the second-years’ faces as they struggled across the lawns for Herbology, and rain that fell in sheets, making every owl and its package extremely sodden. Plenty of students and staff caught nasty colds, collections of Ravenclaws huddled around the fires in the common rooms, sniffling. On one November morning, Herbology was cancelled as Professor Sprout was too ill to get up. Everyone was secretly glad, as it was a particularly bad-weathered day, and Haneul thought they might not survive the cold. She was sitting with Cara in the common room, playing Exploding Snap, when a very wet and cold looking owl landed on the windowsill and started tapping with its beak. It took a few seconds for Haneul to realise that it was her mother’s owl, Wendy. She quickly untied the letter, but the owl did not linger, because she had another letter addressed to someone else.

_ Dear Haneul _

_ Your grandparents have just written to me to request I spend Christmas with them this year, however there will not be space for you. Please sign up to remain at school for the holidays. I am sorry for the short notice, but I will see you in the Easter Holidays. _

_ \- Mum _

Cara peered over at the letter, and grinned.

“I was gonna stay this Christmas as well.” She said, shutting her book.

“You were?” Haneul had been thinking she would be alone for the whole holiday.

“Mum and Dad were going to go and visit some friends, so I figured I’d stay. Ian stayed in his third year, he says it’s really great at Christmas, so I thought I might as well try it out.” She shrugged. “It’s my birthday on January the second as well, and I’ve never spent a birthday with friends before. The owls will bring me anything from Mum and Dad.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to imagine that Cara says 'up to something' in the same way that Snape says it to the Golden Trio in the Philosopher's Stone movie. It always makes me laugh.
> 
> As promised, here's some background to a decision I've made - and something I'll expand on one day in the future!  
> https://docs.google.com/document/d/1wkpJX7eO_6RhTW_r3ItNC4TAfTe4xQKif9KMnISMXqo/edit?usp=sharing
> 
> Next week I'll release 'Christmas' and 'Unnamed'. Kind of ironic that the Christmas chapter is going to come out on Twelfth Night (unless my maths is wrong), seeing as that's when Christmas is technically supposed to end, or at least, where I'm from, we take decorations down. I think that 'Unnamed' will be enjoyable - you might find some answers in it.


	10. Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't apologise for how small this chapter is, because honestly, it's boring enough to warrant it. I didn't like writing it, and I still don't like it very much - but what can we say? I hope you'll find some answers or new food for theory in 'Unnamed'. I wrote a chapter summary/analysis for the first time - I hope that's interesting to those who enjoy reading my extra documents!

Hogwarts went through an incredible transformation as December arrived. The suits of armour that lined many of the corridors were bewitched to sing carols, and plenty of the teachers began decorating their classrooms. Professor Flitwick had arranged evergreen branches at the windows, tied with red ribbons, glistening with tiny bronze baubles. The greenhouses were decorated with fake snow and icicles, making them like real ice cabins. Even Professor McGonagall allowed for a small Christmas tree on her desk, and Professor Quirrell had apparently been too afraid to stop a group of rowdy third-years from putting up copious amounts of paper chains in his classroom, so the whole place looked like a multicoloured tent. Professor Snape had, of course, not decorated the dungeons, and nobody tried to convince him otherwise, for fear of being turned into a bat.

It was the Great Hall that surpassed everything else in the castle. One day, when they came down for dinner, Haneul and Cara found the place transformed. Twelve massive Christmas trees, each decorated with gold baubles and tinsel, lined the hall, sending a yellowish, golden glow around as they ate. There were also mounds of holly and mistletoe decorating the ceiling and tables, and the enchanted ceiling seemed to snow at all times, although the snow must not have been real as it was as warm as ever inside the hall. The whole place seemed to glow and twinkle much more than usual, and it was almost like it had been bewitched to make everyone more excited as the days counted down to the holidays, when most of the students dragged their trunks onto the snowy lawns and clambered onto the Hogwarts Express, homeward bound.

Haneul had never seen the castle so empty. She was used to the corridors being full and bustling, the Great Hall being noisy, and the common room being crowded with older students. But only about seventy people had chosen to stay at Hogwarts, so it felt quite empty. No-one else from Haneul’s dormitory had stayed other than herself and Cara, only some girls from the other one, and a few boys from their year too. It was oddly quiet, sitting in the common room and not having to shout whatever they wanted to say, and having the whole dormitory to themselves. They spent the first few days playing chess and exploding snap, enjoying how no seventh-years came to tell them off for once. The food was better as well, probably because the house-elves in the kitchens didn’t have as much strain as they usually did, when all eight hundred students were present. 

Cara had been hoping to investigate Professor Snape more, but he did not stay at Hogwarts for Christmas. The day after all the students had left, he had been seen leaving the castle with a bag, wrapped in a travelling cloak, and left his office and classrooms sealed. Haneul had lost her suspicion for the potions master, largely due to Christmas spirit, and found herself caring far less than Cara about this. Although it was odd to imagine Professor Snape anywhere except Hogwarts, or having any friends to spend Christmas with, she was far less inclined to find something suspicious, always preferring to not assume the worst. Or perhaps it was her young mind, still sheltered enough to see the good, and Cara was simply more emotionally mature in that way, more critical and analytical because being a younger sister made you that way.

On Christmas Eve, thick snow fell over the grounds once again, and all the students left at school spent the entire day having a snowball fight, before Filch shouted at them all for making the entrance hall wet and slightly muddy as they traipsed back to their common rooms. Although very beautiful at its high point in the castle, Haneul couldn’t help wishing that Ravenclaw tower was not so far away as she sprinted up the stairs with Cara, trying to escape from Filch’s wheezy yells. It was only once they reached the common room that they collapsed, laughing and breathless, although very cold, and spent the rest of the day in front of the fire, thawing out their fingers and talking excitedly about the next day. 

The sun rose clear and bright over Hogwarts on the morning of the twenty-fifth, sending beams of white light into Ravenclaw tower. Haneul woke up first, she was always the first to awake, especially when it was light outside. She sat up and forgot for a moment what day it was, until she saw the presents at the end of her bed and Cara’s - the only two occupied in the dormitory. 

“Oy, wake up!” Haneul threw her present for Cara - new Chaser gloves - at her. Cara mumbled something unintelligible and sat up, pushing her hair out of her eyes. She looked around, a little wildly, before she seemed to come to her senses and wake up properly.

“Ah.” She said, with a yawn. “It’s Christmas.” 

The morning was spent opening gifts - which was surprisingly fun even though it was only the two of them - and sitting in front of the fire. Like the day before, it was snowy and the grounds looked like they had been iced. As the morning progressed, delicious smells made their way up to Ravenclaw Tower, of roasting meat and potatoes. At lunchtime, the whole school entered the Great Hall to a splendid feast. Roasted turkeys glistened, dishes were piled high with vegetables and crispy roast potatoes. There were platters of chipolatas and every type of sauce you could want. It was like the start-of-term feast, but it was nicer, because there were not so many people there. Professor Dumbledore looked extremely happy, in robes of deep green, and Professor McGonagall looked more animated than anyone had ever seen her. Professors Flitwick and Sprout were singing carols loudly and out of tune by the end of the meal, and even Professor Quirrell looked slightly less terrified than usual. It was a shame that the day had to come to an end, it was so enjoyable. It was hard to believe they were at school, and that they would have to do lessons in a week, that there were usually so many people studying there. 

January second was Cara’s birthday, and also the day that the students who had left for the holidays returned. It had just been Christmas, but a number of owls brought Cara packages and cards, including several that sang loudly and had to be kept shut with spell-o-tape. The whole dormitory, minus Keira, spent a rowdy evening eating sweets and complaining about how lessons re-commenced the next day. The beginning of the spring term was always the worst, because it was just after such an exciting, and the weather was dreary too match as well.

With the new term, Cara had a suddenly renewed interest in the apparently elicit activities of Professor Snape. Cara thought that he looked more dodgy upon his return to the castle, but Haneul thought that this was not really possible - Professor Snape looked dodgy most of the time without even trying. Haneul spent an increased amount of time thinking about the bloodline she had in Slytherin, and wondering whether she could really use this information to her advantage. She was still curious about who her father was, but didn’t really see how she could do more than just wait to turn seventeen, because despite his Hogwarts house, there was nowhere else to start, and no-one to ask. She supposed a friend of her mother’s might know, but she couldn’t think of anyone who would actually give her the answer, assuming that her mother had made it clear that it was to be a secret. Even Cara was stumped about how to figure this one out, having not yet mastered the ability to read minds or summon pieces of information from thin air. She had never been faced with a problem so unsolvable, because most questions they ever had to answer had answers hidden in plain sight, in books. 

It was not until February that Cara came back from a quidditch practice, bright-eyed and excited looking, the sort of look that told Haneul that she had had some sort of epiphany. She sat down, breathlessly, and attempted to say something for several minutes, until she was able to get her breath back and finally force words out. It was clear that she had run all the way to Ravenclaw Tower, bursting with this thought. 

“We… have to… look at… old… school records…” She puffed. “To find.. Your dad.”


	11. Unnamed

“We do what?” Haneul asked, feeling a little confused as she rolled up a Transfiguration essay she had been working on.

“School records. Weller, the Quidditch Captain, you know, was telling us that he looked through old records, something about finding out if our team is better than ones in the past. Apparently, in the library, you can find lists of all the students who ever enrolled at Hogwarts, and their houses and other achievements.” She was grinning broadly.

“But how does that help? It just gives us names of everyone, it doesn’t tell you who it actually is. There have been thousands of Slytherins.” Haneul replied cautiously. 

“But.” Cara said pointedly, giving Haneul a look, “I was thinking, and I think it must be someone who was in her year, it just makes sense, doesn’t it?”

“What do you mean?”

“Pregnancy lasts nine months, you were born in March 1978, so your mum would have been pregnant since June 1977, and so she must have been pregnant for the last month or two of school. So that makes me think that it was someone she knew from school. It’s not like she went home during her holidays, is it?”

Haneul slowly shook her head. “I don’t think so. If it was someone from where her parents live, I think they would have made her marry him. But I don’t think she went home ever again after leaving Hogwarts.”

“Perfect.” Cara grinned. 

A strange, apprehensive excitement welled up inside Haneul over the next few days. She and Cara had decided to visit the library at the weekend, so they could spend the most time possible looking over records without being interrupted by lessons, and because most people spent weekends in their common rooms, not the library. It was hard to concentrate when it felt as if you may find out one of the most monumental things in your life any day now. Transfiguration was secondary to learning about a whole half of your family, and even potions was hard to focus on, despite how well Haneul knew of Professor Snape’s short temper and high standards. The possibility of finding out her father’s identity was always a far away thing for as long as she had wanted to know, and it felt strangely surreal that this time next week, she might know. Haneul also wondered how to tell her mother that she knew - would she be very angry? Would she deny it? Or would she admit it and put the two in contact? But, perhaps, Minjeong had been right, and maybe this faceless man really didn’t want her - and that being confirmed was more horrible than not knowing at all. 

On Saturday morning, Haneul woke early, but dressed slowly, feeling like she was in some kind of limbo, as though she was not really existing, but rather her eyes were only watching the rest of her body doing actions. Perhaps in a few hours… No, it was too presumptuous to think about that. Even if they didn find something, there would need to be more research, this could only be the first step of many. There was no use to feel nervous - Haneul was sure that if she did read her father’s name today, she would not actually know it, and that it would just be a part of a list of similarly inconspicuous and foreign names. Cara got up not long after Haneul, but neither of them spoke of what they were doing, because they had already agreed that this would stay between them, because it was still partially Minjeong’s private information, and ought to stay at least somewhat within her control. Furthermore, Haneul was sure Keira would only say something derogatory, and didn’t want a joyous moment to be stolen by that. 

“I checked, and we’re definitely allowed to look at records.” Haneul said as they tucked into toast, because she wasn’t sure what else to say. 

“I should hope so. I don’t see why it shouldn’t be allowed, practically every witch or wizard went to Hogwarts, it wouldn’t tell us anything scandalous to know that.” Even Cara, who had the same kind of confidence as her brother, was looking nervous.

Madam Pince, the librarian, gave them an extra suspicious look as they walked into the library. Despite the fact that it was public information, Haneul felt like she was doing something wrong. Well, in theory, she was. Her mother had expressed very clearly how she felt about the topic, and had told Haneul specifically that she was allowed to know when she was seventeen. No, she had never told Haneul that she wasn’t allowed to look for her father on her own, but she had heavily implied that it was knowledge for a later date. But this person was not only Minjeong’s, in fact Haneul thought she had every right to know, seeing as this was someone related to  _ her _ . She pushed guilty thoughts from her mind and began to flick through a large record book, searching for the right dates. After much searching, she found the right page at last, and nudged Cara, who bent over the page with her.

_ 1970 - First-years _

Haneul’s finger raced down the page, and briefly stopped at her mother’s name, before moving on to the desired section.

_ Slytherin - Boys _

_ Peter Ainsley _

_ Kevin Baker _

_ Scott Barlow _

_ Michael Clare _

_ Marcus Davenport _

_ Andrew Eaton _

_ Alexander Garfield _

_ Dennis Hornsby _

_ Kenneth Keene _

_ Joseph Langley _

_ Eric Middleton  _

_ Samuel Morton _

_ Richard Morton _

_ Brian Oakley _

None of the names, first or last, had a real impression on Haneul the first time she read it, although she did find one or two familiar the second time she read the list.

“I think Mum’s said something about Kenneth Keene before.” Cara perked up at once at Haneul’s words.

“I think he works at the ministry, same department but different office to her. I just seem to remember her once saying that he’s an idiot and caused her office to have to do loads of extra work.”

“Oh.” Cara’s shoulders fell. “I’ve heard of the Mortons. Identical twins, they work in the same office as my dad, both unmarried. But I don’t think it could be either of them, they’re ginger and green-eyed, and I would have thought you would inherit at least one of those traits.”

“Do you think there’s any ways to find photos of these people?” Haneul wondered aloud, writing the names on a sheet of parchment. “Because then we could just remove any that really couldn’t be related to me looks-wise from our further research.”

Cara looked up at the tall shelves, scanning them. 

“Maybe if they ever did anything notable… they might have pictures in the Daily Prophet. Students definitely take pictures of each other while at school, but I don’t think those are things we could find here. My parents have photos, for instance, but they just keep them in photo albums at home.”

They spent the rest of the morning looking through old copies of the Daily Prophet, with moderate success. Peter Ainsley, Michael Clare and Marcus Davenport were ruled out, simply because of how they looked, which left eight people who could be neither ruled in or out, and who couldn’t even be accounted for since entering Hogwarts, almost twenty years ago. 

“I think we did well.” Haneul said, as the two made their way to the Great Hall for lunch. “We ruled out a lot of people. We’ve got a far smaller number than we did when we started.” Haneuul looked down at the list of names that they hadn’t been able to verify yet, which she had brought with her. She wondered if there was anyone she could ask about these people, but the only Slytherin who could have possibly known these people was Professor Snape, and was about as likely to answer questions about former classmates as he was to smile in public.

On Monday morning, in Potions, the subject was brought up again. They were brewing Wiggenweld Potion, but having a whispered conversation.

“I think there’s someone in first-year called Middleton.” Cara hissed, as she added Dittany to their cauldron. 

“What does he look like?” Haneul asked. 

“Dark hair, but blue eyes. So it’s fifty-fifty. I don’t even know if he’s Eric Middleton’s son. Eric might have had an older sibling or something.”

Haneul gazed down at the potion thoughtfully. “So he’s possible. He was my mother’s classmate, he was a slytherin, which he must be, and he could share a feature or two with me.”

“Shin. Whittle.” A sharp voice rang out from a few metres away. “Fascinating though I am sure your conversations are, as I have previously told you, keep them out of my classes, or it will be detention.” Professor Snape looked more furious than usual as he turned on his heel and swept up the classroom.

Unfortunately, the information on the Slytherin boys dried up almost as quickly as it presented itself. The quidditch season became more fierce and Cara had to practice more, and as March rolled by, exam talk reared its ugly head and revision was underway. There was just no time, as was to be expected, to discover your secret family, when you were busy being a young person with school and other activities. And because of how utterly depressing it was to search through records and newspapers and find absolutely nothing, Haneul anticipated her trips to the library less and less. She even preferred homework to dreary sessions searching through old copies of the Daily Prophet. The second-years also had something new to do - pick their subjects for the third year. Every student had to start at least two more classes, and these decisions took up a lot of time. They would have to study these subjects up until the end of fifth-year, and would take big exams in them. There were five to choose from - Muggle Studies, Divination, Care of Magical Creatures, Arithmancy and Ancient Runes. Haneul thought they all looked interesting, and couldn’t make a decision about which she wanted to take.

“Don’t do Muggle Studies.” Amaya advised. “Muggles are really boring compared to witches and wizards, you don’t want to waste your time. Arithmancy sounds quite good, though. It’s quite logical. And probably Care of Magical Creatures, I’d love to learn more about them, muggle animals are so boring.”

“You don’t want to do Care of Magical Creatures.” Cara said, warningly. “Ian told me that the teacher, Professor Kettleburn, is a nutcase. He does it, but says Professor Kettleburn is too reckless even for him.

Instead of worrying a lot about it, Haneul decided to ask her mother for advice when she went home for the Easter holidays in April.

“I did Arithmancy and Ancient Runes and Muggle Studies.” Minjeong said when asked. “They were all good subjects, or that’s what I think. Care of Magical Creatures is more exciting, but more dangerous. Divination is… Well, one of my friends did it, and she spent most of the time staring into tea-leaves and seeing nothing. It’s not a very  _ accurate _ branch of magic, and probably useless if you’re not a seer. But if you are a seer, you don’t need Divination, so it doesn’t make sense really.” Minjeong gave Haneul a furtive look and then her expression suddenly softened. 

“Is something bothering you?”

Haneul wondered how Minjeong had been able to tell. “Not really.” She was not about to admit to what she had been doing, as she knew Minjeong would not approve.

“You’ve never been able to lie to me.” Minjeong replied, gently. 

“Well, I know you don’t like it, but I’m curious about my dad. It’s a whole side of me I don’t know about, everyone else has one and I just-”

“I know. I know it’s not easy. But I’m not keeping it from you for any reason other than to protect you. He’s not someone I want you to know, and it’d be that way even if he wasn’t your father. But he doesn't want you. He made that clear to me, and I don’t think you deserve that in your life. I won’t put you around anyone who is going to resent you and act like you’re an inconvenience.” She sighed. “And I don’t want anything to do with him either. He hurt me too, things I’ll explain one day when I’m ready. But because of that, I don’t want him around. And I know that seems unfair, but my feelings matter as much as yours. I promise you, if he ever did want to know you, I’d tell you who he was. But for now, we both agreed that it’s information you can’t have until you’re seventeen.”

Haneul opened her mouth, but Minjeong spoke first.

“I’m sorry. But that’s how it’s going to be. If I were you, I would lose interest now, so it doesn't continue to eat you up. I don’t want you to keep dwelling on this, because it really won’t change anything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A chapter over 2,000 words??? Finally! I'm so happy that they'll begin to get longer and more detailed soon! Next week's chapters will be far faster than these, or any to come, but that's something I'll explain later, probably in the analysis for those. But after that... exciting things happen! Finally, I can go into detail about things.
> 
> Here's some further thoughts on 'Christmas' and 'Unnamed': https://docs.google.com/document/d/1oQbzwDu1h_zneJXdeONlNowUVrSxBqJlPQiI9C8E9kQ/edit?usp=sharing


	12. Harry Potter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this is the calm before the storm, but we'll see. I hope you enjoy these chapters despite the fact that they're quite fast paced. I think I'll have more to say next week.
> 
> Also yes - these are a bit late - I had 2 exams today and just forgot I needed to edit and publish once they were done.

“Have you heard the news?” Haneul swung into the compartment in which she had caught sight of Cara only moments before. 

“What news?” Cara, predictably, looked up from a book.

“I heard Fred Weasley, going off on one about how Harry Potter is on the train.”

“Harry Potter, as in  _ the _ Harry Potter?”

“How many noteworthy Harry Potters are there? Of course that's the one I mean.” Haneul sat down and threw her ponytail over one shoulder.

“Wow… I hope he’s in Ravenclaw.” Cara said, and then raised a hand in wave - Amaya had entered, lugging her trunk. 

“Hey, Amaya, I think you’ve grown.” Haneul teased.

The short girl rolled her eyes and flopped onto a seat, before grinning cheekily. “Heard you talking about Harry Potter. I’ve seen him. All alone in a compartment, except with someone who’s probably Fred and George Weasley’s brother.” 

“I’ll bet almost  _ anything _ that he gets put in Gryffindor.” Haneul said, darkly. 

“What makes you say that?” Cara asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“He defeated you-know-who. That’s pretty brave, if you ask me.”

It was certainly hard to believe that Harry Potter had defeated the most feared dark wizard of the past century just by looking at him. He looked so nervous, lining up to be sorted, that he could have given Professor Quirrell a run for his money - and Professor Quirrell looked even more nervous than he had for the past two years. But perhaps that was because he was talking to Professor Snape, and he looked as if he had been done a great personal wrong over the summer. As predicted, Harry Potter did become a Gryffindor, which caused applause so loud that Haneul thought her eardrums may burst. After being sorted, she thought that perhaps Harry wasn’t looking quite so pathetic, but it still seemed hard to believe that a boy like this could have ever properly finished off you-know-who.

On Tuesday, Haneul got to start her first new subject - Ancient Runes. It was taught by a witch called Professor Babbling, who talked enough to live up to her name. The subject itself was very interesting, although it did not seem quite like magic. Haneul supposed that like potions, it was more of a science, and only needed magic to help it on its way, unlike Charms or Transfiguration, which was magic to the very roots. Ancient Runes was taught in a very bright classroom, on the seventh floor, and Professor Babbling seemed to hate the idea of closing the windows. This was alright during September, when it was still relatively warm and mild, but as the winter wore on it meant the third-years often had to wear their cloaks during the lessons to stop themselves freezing solid. Other than the cold, the lessons were enjoyable as the class was fairly small, and there was no Keira, a first for Haneul’s lessons.

Haneul had also, despite Amaya telling her she was stupid, chosen muggle studies. Cara had been convinced it would be interesting, and Haneul had to agree that Amaya probably only found it boring because she was so used to muggle life, having been raised with electricity and the postal service. Their teacher, Professor Burbage, started off the first class with a long speech about muggle rights, something which Haneul guessed Keira would have been repulsed at.

“Wizardkind,’ she began, “have many strengths and qualities. However, we are painfully inept at respecting the muggles with which we share our land. I will make it clear now, to all of you, that we are not here to mock or ridicule muggles in any way, and if that is your aim in taking this subject, I advise you to leave my classroom now.” Professor Burbage took a pause, looking around at them all, her green eyes hardening for the first time. When nobody left their seats, she continued, her gaze softening slightly.

“You will be learning about all sorts of things which many people up and down the country find exceedingly normal. I hope this will heighten your respect for muggles, as you will see that despite the fact that they do not possess magical gifts, they have managed to do and develop a great deal. While so many in the wizarding community believe muggles to be incredibly different from us, you will also learn of our similarities, which I hope will be a humbling and worthwhile experience for many of you.”

By the end of the first week, Haneul was beginning to wish she could go back to first or second year. On top of having two new subjects, both of which piled homework on, all the other teachers had ramped up the amount of work they were giving the third-years too. The magic they were learning became increasingly complicated, and Haneul was often up late at night with her fellow third-years practicing charms or spells and writing complicated essays on the composition of certain potions, or else a dark creature.

The positive of the year arrived in October. Third-years were allowed to visit the little village named Hogsmeade, an all-wizarding area a short walk away from the castle. It was a beautiful place, even in the cold. The High Street contained a number of exciting shops - Honeydukes, which was filled with every kind of sweet treat imaginable, and more, Zonko’s, a wizarding joke shop stocked with all kinds of tricks with which to anger Argus Filch, as well as equipment shops rather likes several in Diagon Alley. There was also the Three Broomsticks, a pub where students could shelter from the cold and drink butterbeer - a warm, sweet drink that was far better against the cold than the pub’s crackling fire. Off the main street was the Shrieking Shack - a run down and derelict house that both the villagers and older students claimed to be haunted.

“Even Ian won’t go near it.” Cara stated, matter-of-factly, as she, Haneul and Amaya made their way to the village for the first time, scarves wrapped tightly around their necks. If Ian wouldn’t do something, it was a surefire sign that it was most definitely too dangerous and reckless. “I read that even though it hasn’t made a noise for nearly thirteen years, even ghosts won’t go near the place.”

Although all three of them had been used to magic for their whole lives, or for Amaya, nearly three years, Honeydukes was still unlike anything they had even seen. It contained so many different types of chocolate, stacked up in tall towers of bars, that Haneul was sure even people who lived here would never be able to sample every flavour. Some were relatively normal, like fruit and nut or caramel, but others were less so, ones that contained sherbert that exploded in your mouth with loud bangs, or creams that changed from strawberry to lemon to mint. There were also colossal jars of sweets of all colours and flavours lining the back wall, which opened on command from the owners and floated into paper bags. The air inside the shop seemed to be frenched in sugar, and smelled sweet and fruity, and had a buzz of noise of excited students. They bought wriggling jelly slugs, squeaking sugar mice and sugar quills that were so light that it was hard to believe they were actually edible. The street outside looked so dull compared to the glowing, bright sweets and garish patterns inside Honeydukes.

It was actually the first time when Haneul could remember not wanting the Hallowe'en feast to come, because it meant they had to leave the picturesque Hogsmeade for the castle, which while certainly magnificent, was familiar, and at that moment, had nothing on Hogsmeade. However, Hogwarts had again surpassed itself, Haneul thought, as she sat down in the Great Hall, gazing at the massive pumpkins and live bats, watching the ghosts float around. Everyone was milling in, chatting to friends and taking seats. All the teachers were already seated , but students were still entering in clusters. The food had appeared on the golden plates, and Amaya was just mentioning how her mother had written to tell them about some neighbour’s Halloween decorations, when Cara made a sort of curious, dissatisfied noise.

“Professor Quirrell isn’t here yet. Where is he? Teachers never miss the feasts, except for that Divination woman-”

“Don’t speak too soon.” Haneul nudged Cara. Professor Quirrell had just sprinted through the oak doors, looking quite mad, with his new, large purple turban at an odd angle, and robes flying behind him as he ran. He looked utterly petrified, and finally stopped at the top of the hall, slumped against the staff table, directly in front of Dumbledore and holding onto the wood for dear life. Everyone was quiet now. 

“Troll - in the dungeon - thought you ought to know.”

Then the little strength he had left seemed to fail him, and he sank to the floor, unconscious. 

There was instant commotion. Some students screaming, others crying, prefects shouting for order and yet more talking to their next door neighbours about the alleged troll. Professor Dumbledore made half a dozen loud bangs with his wand before everyone had quieted down enough for him to say anything that anyone could hear, frozen in their spots.

“Prefects, lead your houses back to the dormitories immediately!”

At once, the six Ravenclaw prefects stood up, one bossy fifth-year boy was only a few places away from where Haneul, Cara and Amaya had been sitting, and started to chivvy them out of the hall, jostling with the other students from different houses who were all trying to get out, although it was the Slytherins who were the least eager - their dormitory was in the dungeons, which was, apparently, where the troll was.

“Ravenclaws, this way please.” The bossy fifth-year, who was very tall and had brown hair, was motioning them over. “Come on, everyone, single file up here, quickly please, there’ll be a build up.”

Everyone was quite quiet, still in shock, until they had ascended from the Great Hall, climbed the marble staircase and parted from the Gryffindors, who went south, towards their tower, while they went east. The corridors were now not so hectic and chaotic, and chatter broke out. 

“How d’you reckon a troll got in?” Cara asked, as they skipped a trick step. “We learned about them just last week, they’re meant to be massive. You can hardly just sneak it in.”

“Maybe it got in by accident? Everyone was focussed on the feast, and I don’t think anyone was necessarily searching the dungeons for trolls.” Amaya offered.

“Trolls are idiots.” Haneul said with conviction. “It was probably on purpose. Either an older student or a teacher, probably for Halloween. But Quirrell saw it, and he’s terrified of everything, and came running to Dumbledore.”

“He could have let it in.” Amaya cut in, darkly. “He was the only one not there at the start of the feast.”

“Quirrell? Are you mad?” Cara looked incredulously at Amaya as they took seats in a corner of the common room. “He  _ fainted _ after seeing it. And why would he let it in? He’s not known for his sense of humour.”

“Amaya has a point.” Haneul started. “He seems the most suspicious. Why was he in the dungeons, maybe he was pretending to have found it when really he let the troll in. And it seems like all the other teachers were in the Great Hall at the time. But Cara, you’re right too. He has no reason to let a troll in. No one does really. But he doesn’t seem to have the stomach for it in any case. You need to be good at magic, and he can barely use spells.”

About half an hour passed, in which they continued to throw up theories about the troll, each more unlikely and sensational than the last. The feast was sent up to the common room, and they all ate hungrily, though perhaps not as much as they might have if they had not been worried about a loose troll that could smash them into little pieces. Finally, Professor Flitwick came up to the common room to tell them that the troll had been dealt with, and they could all go to bed safely.

It was not until the next morning that the real events of the night before began to run around the school, although they did not sound very realistic. Cara sped off to see Ian after bolting down her breakfast, and returned to Haneul and Amaya very red in the face and excited looking as they were mounting the marble staircase, on their way to History of Magic.

“Harry Potter defeated that troll.”

Amaya nearly dropped her books, but Haneul caught them and pushed them back into her arms just in time. 

“What happened?” Haneul asked, surprised, but less likely to drop what she was holding.

“Ian told me. Apparently, he and a friend went looking for some girl in their year who was in the girls toilets, because she went chasing after the troll, and it went in there. Potter and his friend, Ian said he’s a Weasley, worked together and knocked the thing out with its own club.”

“Do you think that’s actually true?” Amaya asked, as they took their usual seats at the back of Professor Binns’ classroom.

“If Ian had said he’d done it himself, I wouldn’t believe it. But I think it might be. Something just tells me he wouldn’t lie about that. He’s a show off about things he’s done himself, but he probably wouldn’t lie about Harry Potter.”

By lunchtime, the whole school was talking about the troll incident, buzzing with the news that a first-year, no less Harry Potter, had fought a twelve-foot troll, with the help of his friend. Some people had come up with more sensational, and probably untrue, versions of the story, involving complicated hexes and curses. By dinnertime, a Hufflepuff fourth-year was telling her friends that Harry Potter had transfigured the troll into a tadpole.

Professor Dumbledore got up and told all of them at dinner that the troll had been let in by accident, that it had all been a mistake in the rush and excitement of Halloween and Hogsmeade, but this was not entirely satisfactory to some of the student body. Rumours flew around the school for the next few weeks, about who could have made the mistake that let the troll in. The top suspects were Peeves, although most people did not think that would have been an accident, and Filch, because he was the caretaker and probably had been the busiest, and also hated the students enough to not care if a troll made its way into the school.

Haneul thought that the most exciting thing to recall from the year would be the troll incident, and that was almost how it ended up to be. The rest of the year was extraordinarily ordinary, as much as life at Hogwarts could be, until June 5th. The school woke up as normal, then at breakfast, some people started muttering, because there were absences. Professor Quirrell was not shaking in his seat, and after a scan of the Gryffindor table, people figured out that Harry Potter and one of his friends were missing too. The Ravenclaw third-years arrived at their Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson after break to find Professor McGonagall there, who told them all that the lesson had been cancelled and they should all go back to their common room. It was the first time that any of the students could remember a teacher being missing, or a lesson being cancelled. Amaya theorised that Professor Quirrell was probably ill, he had been looking peaky for weeks, but Haneul thought he had been finally scared to death, that maybe he had been shown something truly awful whilst examining fourth-years. Cara scoffed at them both, and presented her theory - that he had been fired for being scared of all the things he had to teach.

Haneul was closest, although she did not feel extremely happy about that. 

"Listen, I heard some first-years in Potter’s house talking in the library.” Olivia said, returning to their dormitory breathless. “You’ll never guess what happened.”

Every head turned towards her.

“Last night, Potter, and two od his friends, went to the third-floor corridor, the one we were told not to go down on the first night. Apparently, there were all sorts of protective spells and stuff, placed by each of the teachers, to guard something. And Potter, Weasley and Granger got past all of them, by themselves. I heard there was Devil’s Snare, charmed keys, a chess set that comes to life, a troll, some sort of potion, you know, something set by every teacher. And Potter got to the end, and found Professor Quirrell there, trying to steal something, and stopped him!”

“Quirrell was trying to steal something?” Cara asked, looking surprised. “What? And why?”

“Well, it wasn’t  _ exactly  _ Quirrell. The people I overheard said Quirrell had been sort of possessed by- by you-know-who. And he was making Quirrell find the Philosopher’s stone.”

“The what?” Amaya raised an eyebrow, but Haneul clapped a hand to her moth.

“That’s real? Mum told me about it once, but I thought it was just a myth.”

“Yes, it’s real, if these people are telling the truth.” Olivia said, grimly.

“But what is a philosopher’s stone?” Amaya looked very confused. “What would anyone want with a stone?”

“It creates the Elixir of Life and endless gold. So the owner is immortal and rich. It means that Quirrell, or rather you-know-who, was trying to become immortal.”

“But you-know-who’s dead, stupid.” Keira tried to scoff and sneer, but she could not hide the fear from her voice. “Not if he’s possessing people.” Cara retorted, but she looked afraid too. “He’s probably barely alive. Maybe he wanted the stone to properly come back to life.” She turned back to Olivia. “Where is Quirrell now? Azkaban?”

“He’s dead.” Olivia said blankly. “Died in the chambers. Possession makes your body weak. You-know-who must have left his body, and he died.”

It was hard to mourn Professor Quirrell, knowing what he had done and who he had been in league with, but itb was still strange that he wasn’t in the castle anymore. Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons had all been cancelled for the rest of the year, so Haneul, Cara and Amaya spent those lessons out in the grounds, sipping pumpkin juice and talking about what it must have been like in those chambers under the third-floor corridor. The area was still out of bounds, but it was, apparently, being cleaned up and turned into a regular corridor again, and the underground chambers being sealed off. One Tuesday, Filch could be seen heaving enormous chess pieces away from the area, and Professor Flitwick had a cloud of fluttering keys in his classroom for a few days. 

The end of term arrived far sooner than expected, and suddenly there was a flurry to find missing socks and cram robes into trunks. All that day, owls squawked and cats mewed as their owners tried to pack everything up to go home for the summer much faster than possible, and with a considerably higher amount of debris than when they had arrived. Almost everyone had forgotten about Quirrell being gone, everyone was too excited to go home and have two months of relaxation in front of them. It was like that every year, it seemed. The troubles and strifes of the past months melted in the summer heat and didn’t really matter after the train pulled out of Hogsmeade station. Hogwarts problems could be left at Hogwarts, so long as you weren’t directly involved.


	13. The Real Threat

The wind blew against the castle windows, softly rattling the panes of glass between Ravenclaw common room and the air outside. It looked cold, threatening to rain outside, and Haneul was glad for the warmth. She had originally felt bad about missing the Hogsmeade trip in favour of finishing a particularly difficult potions essay, but decided she didn’t much fancy the walk back to the castle in this weather. She moved nearer to the fire and looked down again at her essay, and crossed out a sentence about lavender in a Calming Draught, reaching for  _ One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi _ to check the information she needed. Yawning then, Haneul glanced up at the clock. It was nearly six, the Halloween feast would be beginning soon anyway. There wasn’t much point trying to finish this now. The door to the common room swung open, and several chilly looking people stumbled in. 

“Ahh…” Cara sighed gratefully as she sank onto the floor next to the fire, and pulled off her hat. 

“It’s freezing.” Amaya explained, putting off gloves, and unwinding a scarf that was at least twice as long as she was. “Don’t know why we even went. The Three Broomsticks was packed anyway.”

“Well, there’s the feast now. I reckon that will be more fun than last year.” Haneul offered, rolling up her essay.

“That’s not really an achievement.” Cara pointed out, wiggling her toes. “What’s worse than a troll interrupting?”

“If that  _ idiot _ Professor Lockhart tries anything, it’ll be ghastly.” Amaya said darkly, sinking into a chair. 

Haneul nodded, with an amused smile on her face. Since their old teacher, Professor Quirrell, had died last year, after being possessed by Lord Voldemort, Hogwarts now hosted a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. His name was Gilderoy Lockhart, and while his books boasted of fabulous, daring and heroic achievements, so far all he had managed in class was nearly killing Amaya by setting a Red Cap on her, and not being able to repel it. Some members of the class were still infatuated by him, but Haneul, Cara and Amaya had all agreed that he had no idea what he was doing. He was not the only one who had caused a stir, even though term had only two months ago. On the first evening, no other than Harry Potter and Ron Weasley had missed the school train, and decided to fix the problem by illegally flying a car to Hogwarts, which resulted in a damaged Whomping Willow and a Howler to Ron Weasley, which served as a sufficient alarm clock to anyone who was still sleepy at breakfast. Cara had also spent several days scowling at every Slytherin student, after their quidditch team had all received new, top-of-the-range brooms which surely promised them a much better chance at the quidditch cup.

Luckily, Professor Lockhart spent the Halloween feast smiling broadly around at everyone, as if he was the guest of honour, rather than trying to do anything that could possibly end with dire consequences. Haneul thought this was probably best, seeing as Professor Snape, who was sitting next to him, looked so bad-tempered that any wrong move from the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor might make him flip the table or turn Lockhart into a slug. It would have been fairly amusing if he had done that, Haneul supposed, as she tucked into pumpkin pie, although an angry Professor Snape would probably turn her into a slug too, if she laughed. She was still imagining Professor Lockhart as a slug, still complete with his blond hair and lilac robes, as she walked with the crowd up the marble staircase, after the feast had ended. Cara and Amaya were talking animatedly about Chocolate Frog cards behind her, so Haneul noticed it first out of the three of them. People nearer the front of the crowd had stopped, and after she had managed to get closer, Haneul realised why, and nudged Amaya and Cara, who had not yet noticed anything.

Hanging from a flaming torch, and reflected weirdly on the floor by the large quantity of water there, was a stiff, unmoving cat. On closer inspection, the caretaker's cat, Mrs Norris. But it was what was to the left of her that was really the most frightening.

_ THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED  _

_ ENEMIES OF THE HEIR BEWARE _

A loud, sneering voice rang out.

"Enemies of the heir beware - you'll be next, mudbloods."

A pale, nasty looking boy at the front, with white-blond hair, had spoken. He looked flushed and excited. Most people recoiled, both at the gory scene and at the boy's slur, but a few people were stealing looks at each other, as if invisibly united. Keira even laughed, despite the looks of daggers from Cara and Amaya, who were both looking at her like she had killed someone.

"What's the Chamber of Secrets?" Amaya asked, after they had all been herded back to the common room by prefects and teachers. 

Something about Amaya saying it jogged Haneul's memory.

"It's an old legend. Salazar Slytherin, one of the founders of Hogwarts, built a chamber under the school to house his monster. The monster was meant to stop muggle-borns from coming to Hogwarts." 

"Is it real? Or was that just a prank? It's Halloween, after all." Amaya betrayed her fear with the quivering in her voice. 

"Of course it's real." Keira scoffed, stopping at the table they were sitting at on her way to the dormitories. "Slytherin was nearly as smart as Ravenclaw. He might have left the school because it loved mudbloods too much, but he left something behind to get rid of them when his heir comes back."

Cara got to her feet, seemingly involuntarily, as Keira said the word 'mudblood'.

"Do us a favour,  _ O'Connor _ , and shut up. You'll find your friends in Slytherin if you want to think things like that." She spat.

But Keira had been right. It had been announced the following day that Mrs Norris had not been killed, but petrified, but the culprit had not been caught either. It was slightly worrying, knowing that there was someone capable of dark magic like that at Hogwarts. Only talented dark wizards or dark creatures could cause petrification, and it was only a step away from killing. However, only about a month later, there was another attack. A muggle-born first-year called Colin Creevy became the first human victim of the so-called heir of Slytherin.

Haneul expected more security measures than what was put in place, because almost nothing was put in place. The school continued as normal as far as the staff were concerned, the only difference being that there were now all sorts of accusations and rumours flying around, and people trying to sell counterfeit trinkets to protect against the dark arts. The first-years seemed terrified of everything, even more than usual, as if Colin Creevy had been attacked for that, rather than because he was muggle-born. The only difference appeared in December, when a new notice appeared on the board in the Entrance Hall. Amaya was standing on her toes, but unable to see over the many heads crowding in front of it, because she was shorter than most of them. Cara, usefully tall, peered between two third-years and studied the piece of parchment.

"There's going to be a duelling club." She told Haneul and Amaya as they walked into the Great Hall to the smell of sausages. "First meeting tonight, eight o'clock." 

"I reckon I should definitely go to that." Amaya glanced around, as if the monster responsible for the attacks would be slithering between two of the house tables. 

"It should be fun. Professor Flitwick used to be a duelling champion, so if he's teaching, it'll be good." Haneul said, pouring herself pumpkin juice.

But it was the two people who Haneul would have wanted to teach her least that made their way onto the gold stage that had been set up in the Great Hall that evening. Swaggering, as if he was somehow a great treat for them all, Professor Lockhart, in plum-coloured robes, which he seemed to be showing off from the way he walked. Just behind him was Professor Snape, who really did look like he fancied turning Lockhart into a slug, dressed in black as usual, looking as if he had been forced to come at wandpoint. 

“Gather round, gather round! Can everyone see me?” Professor Lockhart called, grinning jovially. “Can you all hear me? Excellent.” He surveyed the students with boyish regality. “Now, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little Duelling Club, tp train you all up in case you ever need to defend yourselves as I have done on countless occasions - for full details, see my published works.”

He then gestured flamboyantly at Professor Snape, with another grin, that Professor Snape did not return.

“Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape. He tells me he knows a tiny little but about duelling himself-”

“That would still be a good lot more than you.” Amaya muttered scornfully.

“-and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin. Now, I don’t want any of you youngsters to worry - you’ll still have your potions master when I’m through with him, never fear!”

Professor Snape’s lip had begun to curl, and Haneul thought privately that Lockhart would be very lucky if he ended up in one piece at the end. She hadn’t seen a whole lot of his magical prowess, but surely anyone could be better than Lockhart, and his resentment enough could probably knock Lockhart off his feet. Professor Lockhart gave a fussy and overexaggerated bow to Professor Snape, who twitched his head slightly, clearly that was all he could muster at that moment.

“As you can see, we are holding our wands in the accepted combative position,” Lockhart called, not seeming the remotest bit afraid that Professor Snape was brandishing his wand with the kind of look that scorches. 

“On the count of three, we will cast our first spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course. One- Two- Three.”

Professor Snape acted very quickly. He swung his wand over his shoulder and cried, quite clearly, “Expelliarmus.” The strength of his spell sent Lockhart flying across the stage, and smacking against the wall. His wand flew out of his hand, and he crumpled to the floor, in a heap of purple, blond hair messy. Haneul could not help but laugh, and Amaya looked delighted. But Lockhart was picking himself back up and clambering back onto the stage. 

“Well, there you have it! That was a Disarming Charm - as you see, I’ve lost my wand - ah, thank you, Miss Brown.” He took his wand back from a smitten looking second-year. Yes, an excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape, but if you don’t mind me saying so, it was very obvious what you were about to do. If I had wanted to stop you, it would have been only too easy. However, I thought it would be instructive to let them see…”

He trailed off, because Professor Snape now resembled a snake looking at its imminent prey. Looking a little embarrassed, Lockhart told them all to get into pairs and start practicing spells to disarm their opponents.

It was quite fun, Haneul thought, as she tried disarming Cara, she could certainly understand why some people duelled for fun. Of course, real duels were aiming to kill, or seriously injure, and usually involved much more advanced magic, but it was fun all the same. When Lockhart finally called out again, another pair was on the stage, possibly because Lockhart wanted to get out of there alive. It was Harry Potter, and the Slytherin boy who had shouted on the night of the Halloween feast and Mrs Norris’ petrification. Both boys were giving each other looks of utmost loathing. 

“Serpensortia!” The blond Slytherin boy yelled, and at once a snake burst from the time of his wand. Potter looked terrified. 

“Don’t move, Potter, I’ll get rid of it.”

“Allow me!> Professor Lockhart swaggered forward and waved his wand at the snake. It did absolutely nothing to aid the situation, instead it shot into the air and landed on the floor with a smacking noise. Now angered, it slithered towards a second-year Huffleuff, hissing loudly, fangs bared. And then Harry Potter was striding towards the snake, and making a spitting and hissing noise, the same sort as the snake, which stopped in its tracks. 

The Hufflepuff boy - and several others, looked a mixture of scared and angry, as if seeing Potter in a new, but bad light for the first time. 

“What do you think you’re playing at?” The boy shouted, before swiftly exiting. 

Then Potter’s friends were pulling him towards the doors of the Great Hall too, and students were shrinking away. Professor Snape had made the snake disappear, and he was looking puzzled. Professor Lockhart was still looking shocked five minutes later, when he dismissed all the remaining students from the hall.

“He’s a parselmouth.” Haneul stated the obvious.

“Wasn’t Slytherin a parselmouth?” Amaya asked, as the three of them climbed the stairs to Ravenclaw tower. “Wasn’t he meant to have handed the talent down to his descendants?”

“Yes, he was.” Cara replied, grimly. “And Potter was in the corridor before anyone else, the night Mrs Norris was petrified. So that means-”

“Nonsense.” Haneul said, firmly. “He’s a second-year. There’s no way that he’s the heir of Slytherin. He’s in Gryffindor as well. Surely, the heir of Slytherin would be in his house.”

_ You can ask the hat to put you somewhere different. _ A small voice told Haneul, but she ignored it for her own sanity, and because she didn’t want to imagine that anyone in the school really wanted to target muggle-borns.

But it seemed that Potter really might be the Heir of Slytherin, after the next attack. It was the Hufflepuff boy who the snake had nearly attacked at the Duelling Club, and Potter had been at the scene of the attack again. It seemed impossible to find anyone else who could have been responsible for the attacks at this point, and some fifth years who had burst into the corridor after the attacks swore that Professor McGonagall had taken Potter to see the headmaster directly following the attack. And even though Potter did not seem to be reprimanded at all during his visit, it didn’t stop people from suspecting him.

After the attack on the Hufflepuff boy, who’s name was Justin Finch-Fletchley, there was much hysteria among the muggle-born students. It did not fade either, as winter passed into spring and the sun shone over the grounds. Amaya too, was swept up in this, and all of them became wary of Potter. Amaya point-blank refused to go anywhere in the castle alone, and took up the habit of leaving anywhere in which Harry Potter was also. It took a great deal of persuasion from Cara to convince her to come down to the quidditch match, and she only did so because it was outside of the castle, and Harry Potter would be playing, so could not surreptitiously attack anyone while searching for the snitch. They had taken their seats, next to some excitable Hufflepuffs, and the Gryffindor captain had already taken off to do a warm-up lap around the pitch, when Professor McGonagall came running onto the pitch, carrying a large megaphone.

“This match has been cancelled. All students are to make their way back to their house common rooms, where their Heads of Houses will give them further information. As quickly as you can, please!”

The mood over the Ravenclaw common room was grim. About half an hour after they had reached the tower, Professor Flitwick had come in and told them all that there had been another attack, and this time, it was a double one. Hermione Granger, a Gryffindor, and Penelope clearwater, a Ravenclaw prefect. Haneul now understood how the Hufflepuffs had felt about Justin, because it was horrible to have lost one of your own. Then they had been told that for the purpose of security, they would all have to return to their common rooms by six o’clock, and that they had to be escorted to lessons, and the toilets, by a teacher. Matches and other evening activities had been cancelled for the time being as well. Professor Flitwick then added, sounding incredibly sombre, that the school may be closed.

Hogwarts was another two down the next day, but it wasn’t any students that were missing. Hagrid, the gamekeeper, and Professor Dumbledore, were both gone. By lunchtime, everyone knew that the governors had asked for Dumbledore’s removal, because he had failed to stop the attacks, and that Hagrid had been arrested, apparently for all the attacks. The Gryffindors were all in uproar about this, and all refused to believe that Hagrid would ever lift a finger against a student. Clearly, Amaya did not believe that Hagrid was guilty either, because she did not become any less paranoid about possibly being attacked. 

***

_ “All students return to their house dormitories at once. All teachers return to the staff room. Immediately, please.” _

Professor McGonagall’s voice rang out, magically magnified, about ten minutes before the end of potions. Professor Snape looked astounded, but grave, and waved his wand, which instantly rid all their cauldrons of potion. 

“Put out your fires and take your books and notes. You can collect ingredients and cauldrons later.” He said sharply. “Return to your dormitories at once.” 

No one disobeyed, or even spoke. They shuffled out of the dungeon classroom, looking at one another but not daring to breathe a word. Professor Snape brought up the rear, but once they all reached the entrance hall, he swept off in front of them, black cloak billowing as he sped away in the direction of the staff room. The Hufflepuffs who had been in the class with them hurried towards their common room, somewhere off the entrance hall and below the school, whilst Haneul and the Ravebclaws joined the throng of students heading for the marble staircase, and amongst whom whispers were beginning to break out. Most people this time could guess what had happened - clearly another attack. Haneul found herself checking next to her, making sure Amaya was still between her and Cara, though of course nothing could have happened to her, because she had been in potions with them. 

“There has been another attack, however it is, we believe, a fatal one. A student has been taken into the Chamber of Secrets itself.” Professor Flitwick sounded even more mournful than he had the last time there was an attack. “The school will be closed. Tomorrow, the Hogwarts Express will take you all home. I suggest you all pack up your things, and prepare to leave.”

“Please, sir, who’s been taken?” A sixth-year at the back of the crowd had raised her hand. 

“Ginny Weasley. She is in Gryffindor, and a first year.”

“And who’s taken her, Professor?” A second-year called from the left.

“That is yet unknown. I will be registering you all, tp check you are here, as will the other heads of houses with their students. I expect, if anyone is missing, that will be the natural culprit.”

Professor Flitwick then read out the names of every student, a most sombre affair. Not one of the Ravenclaws was missing, and once he had left, the place felt stifling yet empty. 

“Well, at least the people who have been petrified will be awake soon.” Cara tried to sound hopeful. “And they might be able to help figure out how to save Ginny.”

Amaya shrugged, and they all lapsed into silence again. None of them had been to pack their trunk yet, they did not want to face it. Haneul had been looking at Keira, to try and see what she thought of all this, but it seemed she was not very happy about it. Although she had been wholly unbothered by the petrifications, it seemed that with Ginny, she did mind, because Ginny was pure-blood, not muggle-born. She was not talking, or looking at anyone. 

Nothing changed until night-time. The common room was less full than usual, but still plenty of students, including Haneul, remained awake, waiting for news that they did not expect to come. When the door opened, they all expected Professor Flitwick to bring bad or neutral news, or perhaps the identity of the culprit, but he had a smile on his face. 

“Ginny Weasley has been rescued. Things have taken rather a turn for the better.” He said, happily. “There is to be a feast in the Great Hall to celebrate. Prefects who are still awake, do go and wake those of our house who have gone to bed already.” He was about to leave, when he turned back to the room and said, “The school will not be closing. Professor Dumbeldore has returned.”

It was wonderful. No one felt very tired at all, and instead the atmosphere was the best it had been all year. The entire Ravenclaw table burst into applause when Penelope Clearwater came walking over, good as new, and also when Professor Dumbledore announced that the exams had been cancelled. The whole school, bar some Slytherins, cheered loudly for Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, who had turned out to be the ones who had saved Ginny from the chamber. Amaya was no longer afraid, and was, in fact, ecstatic with joy when it was announced that Professor Lockhart would not be teaching them anymore, because his own memory charm had backfired, and he had to go to St Mungo’s Hospital to get his memory back and learn to write again. 

“Well, you can’t say it was an uneventful year.” Cara reflected, looking out of the window as the train got closer to London. The rest of the summer term had been a blur, practically heaven in comparison to the dark mood that had shrouded the castle since the reopening of the Chamber of Secrets. 

“No, you can’t.” Amaya stretched in her seat. “I’ll be happy if next year is a bit more normal.”

“Me too.” Haneul agreed. “We’ve got our O.W.Ls. I wouldn’t want loads more scandal and trouble getting in the way of  _ that. _ Fingers crossed everything is more like our first, or second years, eh?”

Cara nodded. “I don’t think I’m really made for being in the thick of the action. I’d rather just hear about it afterwards.”

Haneul nodded, and looked out of the window. Familiarity beckoned, and she was more than ready to accept it after a turbulent year. Anything lying uneasily inside her stomach could wait, because youthful bliss still had its hold over them all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://docs.google.com/document/d/1xcvNq6yca_KiOUJ05hUy2vUvQvClc0CkeOBLVwnPvKc/edit?usp=sharing
> 
> Here's my round up! I like writing these (I usually do them a couple days before release or whilst I'm editing), and it's especially nice in the case of the older chapters to go back and think about things! I wonder what it'll be like to do this for my longer chapters where more happens? 
> 
> I also hit 200k words this past week - that's crazy to me. I can't wait to share it all one day!


	14. Perigee

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, enjoy! These are a bit longer, I think (and more slowly paced). Explanation about these two will be at the end of Divine Truth!

The summer holidays were quite enjoyable. Haneul sent most of the first few weeks filling her mother in on everything that had happened, the attacks, the Chamber of Secrets, and Harry Potter’s grand acts of bravery that had saved the first-year. But about halfway through the holidays, the post-attack euphoria quite disappeared, when the latest copy of the Daily Prophet appeared, with a large headline, displayed above a photograph.

_ SIRIUS BLACK ESCAPES AZKABAN: WIZARDING COMMUNITY WARNED _

The photograph beneath showed a wizard with long, tangled hair, and a maddened, slightly drained expression. He blinked up from the paper.

_ Sirius Black, notorious mass murderer, escaped from Azkaban prison last night, after twelve years imprisonment. The Ministry of Magic confirmed that Black is likely on the loose, but admitted that they are yet to understand how he managed to escape.  _

_ “He’s the first one to do it, see. And he’s not got a wand, so we don’t know how he did it.” A harassed spokeswizard told the Prophet last night. Black killed thirteen people - including twelve muggles - in 1981, shortly after the fall of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and is possibly the most savage wizard alive today. The Ministry of Magic is warning witches and wizards to be on the lookout for Black, and to report any sightings to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement immediately. The Muggle Prime Minister has also been warned of Black’s escape, but according to Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge, “The muggle population will have no idea that Black is actually a wizard, and we have set all measures in place to ensure that if any muggles see Black, we shall be informed immediately.”  _

Haneul had never heard of Sirius Black before, but it was clear that her mother had, because she gasped sharply once she had read the article. 

“That Sirius Black…” She said, weakly, sitting down and studying the front page again, as if she did not believe it. 

“How could he have escaped? I thought no one could get out of Azkaban.”

“Well, that’s going to be the mystery. No one’s ever done it. He probably knows some sort of Dark magic… Gosh, I hope he’s captured soon. He deserves worse than Azkaban.”

“Why did he kill all those people? I mean, did he just hate muggles?” Haneul stared down at the picture, wondering what had driven Black to become so cruel. 

Minjeong looked wary, and sighed. 

“I may as well tell you. As long as you keep it a secret. Not many people know this, and I think Dumbledore wants it kept that way.”

“Dumbledore?”

“When You-know-who was still in power, there were some of us, who were involved more closely with fighting against him, you know, with Dumbledore. Sirius Black was one of us too. But he ended up being a spy. He fed the information to You-know-who that got Lily and James Potter killed. And then, another one of us, Peter Pettigrew, tried to hunt Black down, make him pay for what he had done. But Black killed Pettigrew, and twelve muggles in the vicinity. That’s why he’s in Azkaban. It was kept quiet exactly how he was working for You-know-who, I expect because it was already scandal enough that he killed so many people. So it’s not common knowledge what he did, everyone just knows he was a supporter of You-know-who.”

“So why’d he break out now then? He could have done it years ago, just after You-know-who fell.”

“I don’t know the answer to that. Perhaps he only just figured out. Perhaps he snapped out of a haze and wanted to find his master. Perhaps he went so mad he stopped feeling remorse.”

It was a scary thought, that one of Lord Voldemort’s greatest supporters was on the loose. It brought back that horrible feeling that Haneul hadn’t felt since her first year, the persistent prod that perhaps, You-know-who was still alive and only weak. What if at that very moment, Black was with You-know-who, and helping him to become stronger, and take over the wizarding world again? Her mother did not often talk about the war, but on the rare occasion she did, it was never anything good. It had been a time full of fear and discord, and the wizarding world had been completely at the mercy of the totally merciless Voldemort, and his supporters. True to herself, Cara was already theorising about Sirius Black on the train to Hogwarts. In between talking about their O.W.L exams, she badgered Amaya and Haneul for their own theories for how and why Black had escaped. Haneul put forward a few feeble theories, but did not want to accidentally spill the story her mother had told her. 

The train was nearly at Hogsmeade Station when it began to slow. It was raining heavily outside, and Haneul was glad she did not have to ride in the little boats to the castle today. She was just remembering her own journey, four years ago, when the train came to a sudden, jolting stop, and the lamps all went out. It suddenly became very cold too, and there were distant sounds of someone getting on the train. 

“W-what’s going on?” Amaya asked the compartment, but she was not answered, because neither of the others knew. They sat there, trying to acclimatise their eyes to the darkness, which seemed to press in on them more as the seconds passed, ever slower.

The door of their compartment opened, and a rotting, greyish hand curled around the doorframe. Cold spread throughout, chilling Haneul to the very core. She suddenly could not remember anything but despair, and hopelessness, which consumed her whole being. The owner of the hand was a hooded, gliding creature that seemed to emanate cold and despair. It hovered for a few moments, but then departed. The compartment was still dark, but as the creature moved further and further down the train, the cold began to fade, and Haneul remembered, if slowly, what it was like to be happy, and that her life was not pointless. 

It seemed like hours before the lights came back on and the train started to move again. Both Cara and Amaya looked extremely shaken, and from the looks they all gave each other, it was clear that they had all experienced the same thing.

“That… That must have been a Dementor…” Haneul breathed, the ability to think and speak returning to her.

“The guards of Azkaban?” Amaya asked, rubbing her face with her hands. “But what’s it doing here? Black wouldn’t be on the train, would he?”

“I don’t know. Cara said, darkly, casting a gaze around the compartment. “But it wasn’t here for no reason. It must have been thinking it would find something.”

***

“Welcome! Welcome to another year at Hogwarts!”

The Great Hall, complete with the old yet comforting sight of Dumbledore, melted away nearly all of the cold and anguish that the Dementors, and the pouring rain, had made Haneul feel. The ride up to the castle had been wet and shivery, and everyone in their carriage had been worried about another Dementor searching the place on their way up to the school. But now, it was hard to be worried, because it really wasn’t possible to be afraid when Dumbledore was around. He gave off an aura of such great power, even just standing at the top of the hall. 

“I have a few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I think it best to get it out of the way before we become befuddled by our excellent feast.” He cleared his throat, as if in preparation, then continued.

“As you will all be aware after the search of the Hogwarts Express, our school is presently playing host to some of the Dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry of Magic business.” He took another pause, and looked almost contemptuous for a moment. 

“They are stationed at every entrance to the grounds, and while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to leave the school without permission. Dementors are not to be fooled by tricks or disguises - or even invisibility cloaks. It is not in the nature of a Dementor to understand pleading or excuses. I therefore warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to our prefects, and our new head Boy and Girl, to make sure that no student runs foul of the Dementors.”

Professor Dumbledore gave the hall a grave, sweeping look, his bright blue eyes seeming to bore into each student with sincere warning. 

“On a happier note, I am pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks this year. Firstly, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.”

Haneul searched the staff table for a new face, and found it quickly. He looked young, but tired and worn. The rest of the teachers were in their best robes, but Professor Lupin’s were patched and shabby looking. He seemed thin too, and a little unhealthy. He gave a weak smile as a polite spatter of applause rang out, Haneul joining in too. Cara nudged Haneul and Amaya with a grin. 

“Professor Snape doesn’t look happy, look!”

Haneul flicked her eyes over to the Potions master. He looked livid, an expression of complete loathing on his face. He looked resentful too, as if he had been cheated of something, or betrayed. Haneul assumed this was all to do with the fact that Professor Snape had now, for the second time since she had started at Hogwarts, failed to get the Defence Against the Dark Arts post. 

“As to our second new appointment, well I am sorry to tell you that Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, retired at the end of last year in order to spend more time with his remaining limbs. However, I am delighted to say that his place will be filled by none other than Rubeus Hagrid, who had agreed to take on this teaching job along with his gamekeeping duties.

The applause was far louder this time, especially from the Gryffindor table. Hagrid was very nice, despite looking as though he could rip your head off, but Haneul did not take Care of Magical Creatures, so she would not be getting to know Hagrid’s teaching skills. 

“You’ll have to tell us what he’s like.” Cara said to Amaya, who did take the subject.

“Maybe he’ll be really good.” Haneul offered. “He’s big, he can deal with all kinds of creatures. And he knows about almost everything that lives in the forest.”

“He can’t be crazier than Kettleburn.” Amaya said, reaching for a chicken leg, as the golden plates had just filled. “Or at least, I hope he’s not.”

“I wonder what Professor Lupin’ll be like.” Cara asked the two of them. “He looks like he needs a good meal, but maybe he’s so shabby because he’s been fighting dark creatures.”

“He really  _ can’t _ be worse than his predecessor.” Amaya had clearly still not forgotten Professor Lockhart’s incompetence, which had ended spectacularly in his loss of memory. 

Haneul chuckled. “We’d better hope not, or we’ll all fail our O.W.Ls.”

As it turned out, Professor Lupin was an excellent teacher. The fifth-years had him first thing the next morning, and were originally not convinced that they would have a very good lesson. Professor Lupin looked as shabby as he had on the first night, his robes patched, and up close, he looked careworn, his young face was prematurely lined like Professor Snape’s, and he had streaks of grey in his light brown hair. But he did smile, if a little tiredly, at the class when he entered the classroom and took his place behind the teacher’s desk.

“Good morning.” He began. “Books away, please, today will be more of a practical lesson, I think.”

The class looked at one another excitedly. Practical lessons had been few and far between, seeing as Quirrell had been too afraid to allow them, and Lockhart had been too stupid to orchestrate one. 

“Today we shall be learning about Dementors.” Lupin said, mildly. “It is not usually something that is taught until N.E.W.T level, but following the little visit on the train last night, Professor Dumbledore thought it prudent that students from the fifth year and upwards learn more about them, and how to protect themselves.” He smiled at them all again. “So, I think most of you will have seen a Dementor by now, and experienced the way it makes a person feel. That is the best way to learn about Dementors, I think. By experiencing it. It will help you too with producing the best defence against a Demontor, a Patronus Charm.”

The lesson was actually rather fun, learning to produce wisps of silver smoke from the tips of their wands. Professor Lupin told them that with more practice, they may be able to produce what was called a Corporeal Patronus, which just meant that the silver smoke would take the form of an animal, which would represent their character.

“Sometimes, a person’s patronus can change.” Lupin explained, near the end of the class. “If a person goes through emotional upheaval, or changes very significantly, their patronus may alter to reflect their new personality. Sometimes, it can take a form that represents the person who you love most, but this is quite rare. It’s got to be a very deep love, in order for that to happen.” The bell rang, and he gave another of his calming smiles. “That’s all for today. I’d like a foot on Dementors and defence against them for homework, please.”

“Good class, wasn’t it?” Haneul asked Cara and Amaya excitedly, as they went out into the courtyard for break. It was still quite warm, so they stood in the sunshine, enjoying the fresh air before potions.

“He really seems to know his stuff, that’s what I thought, anyway. Much better than Lockhart.” Amaya agreed, turning her face to the sky to warm it.

“Looked at you weirdly, though.” Cara commented, out of the blue, turning to Haneul. “Do you know him?”

Haneul shook her head. “Never even heard of him before. I didn’t notice him looking at me oddly.”

“Well, he was. Looked kind of inquiring, like he thought he recognised you.” 

“I promise you, I’ve never met him, or heard of him. Not that I remember, anyway.”

“Maybe he knows you.” Amaya said, with a shrug. “Like, maybe he’s seen you before but you didn’t see him, so he’s wondering where he recognises you from. Or maybe you just look like someone he knows, and he’s dumbstruck by that.”

The bell rang then, and the courtyard began to clear. Sure that this lesson would not be as fun as Defence Against the Dark Arts, Haneul descended somewhat gloomily into the dungeons for Potions. She wasn’t bad at potions, on the contrary she was quite good, and thought the skill came quite naturally to her. But it was not of any importance, because praise did not exist in Professor Snape’s vocabulary. She may as well have been totally mediocre, and she expected she would receive the same cold-shoulder treatment as the rest of the class.

“I believe this year, you will be taking your O.W.Ls.” Professor Snape’s voice was as soft and deadly as usual, he had not changed at all over the summer.

“Let it be known that many of you will not continue to study potions into sixth year. I only take students who have received the grade ‘Outstanding’ in their O.W.L onto the N.E.W.T course, and I do not expect that all of this class will achieve that.” His black eyes glittered malevolently towards those students with consistently poor marks. 

“That said, I still expect all of you to pass your exams. Potion making is a highly useful discipline and it will reflect poorly on yourselves if you are unable to scrape an ‘Acceptable’ after five years of work. In order to, ah,  _ raise the standard _ of this class, I shall be marking work more harshly this year, so mind you do not slip behind.”

He then proceeded to set them probably the most difficult and complicated potion they had ever had to brew. By the end of the lesson, Cara was cursing under her breath, having nearly made mistakes at least ten times, because it was such a tricky potion.

The afternoon brought double Transfiguration, which also began with a speech about O.W.Ls, from Professor McGonagall.

“You O.W.L exams are of utmost importance to your future careers, so I will be expecting everyone to work hard to keep up with the demanding work. If you put in the effort, you should all be able to pass your exams with good marks, so I do not want to hear any of you telling me that you cannot do it. I ask you all to not be disappointed if your marks seem lower this year, as I will be marking to O.W.L standards, therefore it will be a little harsher. With attention to mistakes, you should be able to achieve high marks quickly.”

The class then began vanishing spells, which proved harder than anything they had ever attempted before. Haneul thought her mouse looked a little paler, but overall decided that it was definitely not vanished. Cara had more success, her mouse’s ears had disappeared after considerable effort, but everyone in the class was told to practice the spell and write an essay about it for the next lesson, in two days' time. 

The bell had rung, and Haneul was waiting for Amaya to cram her things back in her bag, wishing she would hurry up, because she was hungry. She was just walking out of the classroom, when Professor McGonagall’s sharp voice rang out. 

“Shin, a word please. Gulati, go off to dinner, it won’t take long.”

Wondering what she could have possibly done, seeing as it was the first day, and hoping her vanishing spell hadn’t been _that_ bad, Haneul shouldered her bag and made her way to the top of the classroom.

“What is it, Professor?”

Professor McGonagall turned around from putting the box with the partially vanished mice on her desk, and looked very severely at Haneul. 

“I was going to make this announcement to all the fifth years at once, Shin, but I think it is necessary for me to tell you first, as it has a little more to do with you.”

Haneul said nothing, but thought her facial expression was sufficiently confused looking.

“A new student will be arriving into the fifth year. It is quite sudden. Usually, we do not admit students so late in one’s education, but his family has quite suddenly had to relocate to Britain, so Professor Dumbledore made an exception.” She explained. “Quite understandable of course, the boy needs his education.” Professor McGonagall said this more to herself.

Haneul still failed to see how this concerned her more than anyone else in the year.

“His mother wrote to us and informed us that his English is almost perfect, but due to the sudden nature of the move, he may have difficulty with certain, more advanced spell vocabulary.”

“Ah.” Haneul nodded. “So he’s from Korea.”

“Did I not mention that?” Professor McGonagall paused for a fraction of a second. “Well, I’m assuming you speak-”

Haneul nodded. “Yes. With my mother. I can help the new student.” 

“Excellent. Well, run along to dinner now.”

The fifth years could talk of nothing else after Professor McGonagall made the announcement to all of them after dinner. She had herded all of them into the chamber off the entrance hall which they had waited in on their very first day, just before the sorting, and explained that they would be welcoming a new student. She told them that it had been decided he would join Ravenclaw ‘based on comments from his old teachers’, though Haneul knew it was probably because Ravenclaw was where she was. This was the first, and only time that any student could remember someone joining after first year, and an evening was spent with much speculation about why he had relocated so hastily, and what he would be like. 

“Some foreign witches and wizards are  _ super _ stuck-up.” A Hufflepuff said to her friend, as the fifth-years left the antechamber. “Maybe he’ll think he’s better than all of us.”

“Yeah, totally.” Amaya muttered, sarcastically. “I bet he’ll have the time of his life, coming to a school where everyone else already knows each other and speaks a language that’s not his first. Sounds like a fun time to me.”

As it turned out, Jae Chan Moon was neither egotistical nor nervous. He had an easy sort of smile, and looked around the entrance hall with great interest. He was very clearly impressed and mesmerised by the fact that he was inside a castle, but it did not seem to daunt him, because he looked perfectly relaxed. Haneul felt bad for a moment that the first thing she noticed about him was that he was good-looking, but felt less bad after it seemed that that was the thing that most people noticed about him. It seemed quite clear that Jae Chan was at least a little bit aware of this, because he did not react to the stares. He did, however, look far more comfortable when Haneul had introduced him to Cara and Amaya, who did not look at him like he was an object. 

“You’ve got nerve.” Was the first thing that Cara said to him, after they had exchanged names. “I wouldn’t have the guts to go to a new school like you’ve done.”

“Well, I don’t suppose I have nerve either. As I’m underage, I can only do what my parents ask.” Jae Chan had a slight accent when he spoke, but he was very easy to understand.

“No one can shut up about why you moved here.” Amaya leaned forwards. “All day, people have been talking about it. Someone said your family must be on the run from the law, but that’s not true, is it?” 

One of his eyebrows disappeared into his fringe, and a wider smile broke onto his face. “No, We are not on the run from the law. My father works in international relations, and it was suddenly decided that he ought to work here, because the person whose job he is working in now had retired. It isn’t really very exciting.” He shrugged. “My parents always wanted my younger brother to be educated abroad anyway, so I suppose I am a…” He paused, searching for the right expression, “Guinea pig.”

“They’re using you as a  _ test _ ?” Cara blinked, incredulously. “I’m sure your little brother is great, but surely you’ve been pulled away from all your friends, and the stuff you learn is different…” 

“I think what we learn is mostly the same. Although I had to take big exams only last summer, I don’t think I’m very happy about having to do them again.”

“I don’t even want to do them  _ once _ .” Haneul complained. “And with the amount of homework we’re getting… I bet Snape gives us loads tomorrow.”

“Who is Snape?” Jae Chan enquired. 

“He teaches potions.” Cara explained, frowning. “He’s great at potions, but I think he has a personal vendetta against all of us who aren’t in Slytherin, that’s his house, you see. And just our luck, we have potions with the Slytherins this year. But he’s the only teacher like that, The rest are all good.”

“You’ll be fine with everyone else, though.” Amaya said, airily. “All the others are either fair, or nice. And we’re in luck this year with our Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.”

“ _ This year _ ?” Jae Chan repeated.

“Our last two teachers have been awful. One was possessed by a dark wizard, which made him scared of everything, then died. Last year, he was barely a teacher. Just an old fraud with a massive ego.” Haneul cut in, rolling her eyes. “This year’s teacher, Professor Lupin, seems nice enough. And he knows his subject, which is always a plus.”

“This school seems far more exciting than my old one.” He mused, glancing around the room. 

“It can be. Last year, someone opened a secret chamber below the school, and set a giant killer snake on all the muggle-borns.” Amaya dotted an i, sounding casual. “Year before that, some first-years saved a precious magical object from you-know-who.”

“Don’t worry.” Cara said, in mock comfort at Jae Chan’s shocked expression. “This year, we only have a mass-murderer on the loose, but chances are he won’t come anywhere near us. Must be why the school is so heavily guarded against him.”

Haneul felt that Amaya and Cara had successfully terrified Jae Chan by the time the evening was over, but the two of them seemed wholly satisfied with this. She thought that they seemed to like Jae Chan, but that they didn’t want to miss an opportunity to mess with someone either, and expected that they had planned this together. Or at least, Cara must have had something to do with it, because even though she often claimed to be nothing like her brother, she did have the same partiality for jokes as he did, even if she wasn’t as reckless as him.

To their credit, Amaya and Cara did calm down the next morning, or at least stopped trying to scare Jae Chan further, by glaring at anyone and everyone who pointed at him and then began to whisper behind their hands. Most of the Ravenclaws were now thoroughly fine with having a new student in their midst, although Keira of course had to ruin the moment by saying loudly that he ‘had better work as hard as the rest of us and prove he  _ actually _ belongs here’. Even Haneul, who usually didn’t outburst, threw Keira a very dirty look, and Cara deliberately pushed past her on the way to Charms, in which Professor Flitwick predictably began the lesson with a talk about O.W.Ls.

“As a class, you have done very well over the last few years of work with me. However, I do not want any of you to slack off, because this year’s work is a little harder than last.” He explained, squeakily, from behind his desk, on top of a stack of books. “Your O.W.Ls are very important, and even if you do not continue to study charms after this year, these examinations are vital to your future careers.”

The task that day was Disillusionment charms, which turned out to be quite funny. The charm was meant to make a person blend in with their surroundings, like a chameleon, if cast properly, ot even make the subject near-invisible, but because it was inly their first attempts, the class mostly ended up making body parts of their partners fade into the backdrop of the classroom, or just made them grow a little fainter. The whole class stopped to roar with laughter when a girl made her friend’s head disappear, and she ran around the classroom, terrified of her headless reflection. Haneul outshined Cara for once, and found she was quite good at this particular charm, managing to make Jae Chan very nearly invisible, and earning her ten points for Ravenclaw.

After break, there was Muggle Studies, which Amaya did not take. Jae Chan was taking it although Haneul knew this was probably because she took it, because he admitted that such a subject had not existed at his old school. 

“We studied some strange things, or perhaps something strange to you. For instance, we could study ways to reawaken the dead, or a way of…” He tailed off, searching for the right description, “A way to read minds.”

“Necromancy? And Legilimency?” Haneul enquired, having read about them in passing.

“Perhaps. Those could be the words.”

“But Necromancy doesn’t work, and it’s a dark art.” Cara pointed out.

“I do not think the teacher cared very much. We were not really learning to  _ practice _ it, it was a history of the magic itself. I was going to study legi- thingy this year, but then I moved.”

The last lesson of the day was Potions. Haneul, for some reason, really did not want to go, at least, she dreaded it more than usual that day. The thought of spending the entire afternoon, which was quite sunny and pleasant, effectively locked in a dungeon with a nasty group of Slytherins, probably a foul smell of failed potion, and Professor Snape’s glares, seemed completely unbearable. It was ironic that their potion of the day was the Draught of Peace, because Haneul could have quite easily flung herself at the Slytherins across the room after only five minutes of the lesson.

“I mean, what kind of a name is  _ Moon _ ? Is he a werewolf, or something? I’d change my name, if it was me.” Said one boy, whom Haneul did not know by name.

“Maybe it’s fake. I heard his family’s actually on the run. Maybe they just pulled out a dictionary and picked a word at random.”

“It means door.” Haneul said, loudly, not caring that Professor Snape raised his head from where he was sitting at his desk, writing something. “Or gate. It’s a common enough surname.”

“What’s yours mean then, Shin? Chair? Window?” Jeered the boy.

Jae Chan was suppressing a laugh as he spoke. 

“It means God, actually, you know, like a deity or a divine ruler.”

Next to him, Cara snorted, and Amaya chuckled into her hand. Even Haneul could not suppress a grin.

“Thank you.” Said a cold, sarcastic voice from the top of the classroom. “Next time we require a language lesson, I shall surely call on one of you. But for now, keep your conversations on the brewing of the Draught of Peace, or I shall have to take points from Ravenclaw.”

“That,” Amaya said, still grinning as they ascended from the dungeons after the lesson, “was probably the best thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Is it true? Are we really in the presence of God Haneul?” Cara asked, also looking delighted.

Jae Chan nodded. “In theory. I think muggles worship a God, I don’t think they call that God Shin, but it refers to an arbitrary deity. A God that’s not believed in, or from another religion.”

“Just count yourself lucky Snape didn’t take any points from you.” Amaya narrowed her eyes. “Even though the Slytherins did start it, I expected him to take points from us.”

“We got so much homework, I doubt we’ll ever finish it.” Haneul complained, “I might as well just have points taken off now, he’s going to take off fifty when I don’t write enough for the essay.”


	15. Divine Truth

The first week passed in about the same way as it always did - learning to get used to doing homework, remembering all the things about Hogwarts you’d forgotten over the summer, and adjusting to new classes and teachers. Defence Against the Dark Arts was rapidly becoming a favourite class of many - Professor Lupin was a good teacher in his own right, but he was made better by the fact that his predecessor had been so abysmal. He was especially good with magical creatures, and they spent a highly interesting lesson looking over all different types of snake, and how some had magically altered venom. 

On Saturday, Haneul finally got the answer to why Professor Lupin had apparently looked at her in a strange way, which Cara had pointed out after their second lesson too. She had been heading down to the library to return a book, walking along the second-floor corridor, when a greying head poked out of a door.

“Shin?” Professor Lupin called, softly. 

Haneul turned to face him, curiously.

“Could I have a word?” He asked, stepping aside for her to enter the office.

Haneul stepped inside, and was first greeted by a Red Cap in a cage. She had seen one the previous year - with dastardly consequences - in Professor Lockhart’s class. But Lupin seemed to have much more knowledge, as it was not wreaking any havoc as it had the last time Haneul had seen one.

“I fear that this may be a little personal.” Lupin said warily, as he shut the door. “But I’m afraid that my curiosity has had the better of me.”

“I’m not sure if I understand what you mean, Professor.”

“Well, I couldn’t help but notice you look strikingly similar to someone I went to school with. Of course, I haven’t seen her since she left, the year before me. But, I do think I’m right in thinking that your mother is Minjeong?”

Haneul nodded, understanding flowing through her. Of course, Lupin did look about her mother’s age, beneath the greying hair and premature lines.

“Yes, that’s right.”

Lupin smiled pleasantly, but it did not altogether hide the slight look of epiphany that crossed his face.

“I didn’t know she had children.” He said, lightly.

“Oh- well, it’s just me.” When he did not say anything, Haneul said, “Did you know her?”

“Your mother? Not extremely well. She was in the year above me, you see. And a different house. But I remember her, she was very skilled. She produced the first corporeal patronus I ever saw, I just remember that very clearly about her.” 

Haneul nodded, not quite sure about why she felt the tiniest stab of disappointment.

As if he could read her thoughts, Lupin glanced around the room, before saying, quite gently, “I suppose she doesn’t speak about her time at school very much, I’m sorry I can’t be of more help.”

“Oh, it’s fine.” This was, truthfully, not the reason for the stab of disappointment, at least not entirely. She held up the book she had been holding. “I’d better return this.”

Haneul realised, as she left the library, that the old curiosity had flickered inside her for a moment again. Some outlandish, strange part of her had thought for just a moment that Lupin may have, even without knowing, given her a name and a face that had been missing for so long. It was stupid, really, to assume that Lupin could have known who her father was, because, unless he was a very good liar, he hadn’t even known that Minjeong was pregnant. Judging from general implications, nobody had known a thing until after Minjeong had left Hogwarts, and maybe not even Minjeong herself. That was a possibility, and maybe the reason that Haneul’s father had never wanted to be around, because maybe by the time he found out she was going to be born, he already had his own life, and did not have time for an accident, for a mistake that he could easily put on the mother. If he was a person like that, Haneul decided that she probably did not want to meet him, though her curiosity was by no means curbed. She couldn’t help but see her mother’s blunt comments as a little suspicious, as if they were rehearsed and not entirely true, but yet could also not think of a reason why such lies were necessary. Even if there was some kind of deep, dark reason for her father’s absence, surely she could just be told that she wasn’t allowed to know.

***

It happened at breakfast, although of course it also did not happen at breakfast. Looking back, and knowing what she knew, Haneul would wonder if it was not simply luck that she was earlier than her friends to go down for breakfast, and that she placed the package from an unfamiliar owl with familiar writing on it in her bag rather than open it right there, in front of eyes that could watch. Really, it was all down to these chance events that it stayed a secret, Haneul could be sure in future years that these small actions placed the foundation for something so complicated and deep that twisted for years and contained more secrets than simply what was contained inside that wrapped book. 

Haneul actually forgot all about it until lunchtime. Again, she felt a peculiar need to be alone, maybe because the morning had been busy and loud, with Herbology and Transfiguration in one morning. Amaya and Cara were quite happy to entertain Jae Chan by explaining innately English things to him, which had not lost their shock value yet. It was still good weather, so she decided to stroll in the grounds. She had sat under a secluded tree, and was going to pull out a book they had been set to read for Charms, when her hand hit the still-wrapped package. On closer inspection, it had been wrapped, and a slip of parchment bearing her name in her mother’s hangul attached to it. Sliding off the paper, it revealed itself to be a book, leather-bound and a deep red cover. A single number - 1977 - was inscribed into the front. Haneul opened it, and a note fluttered out, but it was in English.

_ I know you can’t read this, but I think you’ll know what it says. This is your identity and secret now. You can give it to her whenever you see fit, I only ask that you tell me when you do so. Good luck. _

Her year of conception. A note to a person who was hidden. It could not be, uet it must only be, that the one burning question Haneul had failed to answer would be given a response after years of failed searching and musing. It was a diary. Haneul flipped through January, February, March, April, May, searching for June. She ran her finger down the sixteen-year-old writing, searching for something that she couldn’t know she was looking for. 

**June 27th, 1977**

**I don’t know that I can write this. But I don’t really have anyone else to tell, so I suppose I must. Perhaps this will be preparation for all the people who I will, inevitably, have to tell. I’m pregnant. I don’t know exactly how I feel, and I don’t know what I’ll do. I’m leaving Hogwarts forever in three days, but I’m not really comforted by that. I had plans, even if they weren’t ones I necessarily wanted to carry out. But now, almost everything is unknown. Professor Dumbledore said he would do what he can to help, although I don’t exactly know what that means. He must know that I can never go home, that I’d never be able to keep this a secret from my parents if I was in their presence.**

**Perhaps this is freeing. I am on my own now, and I know that. But maybe I can turn it from loneliness to independence. I know already that I can’t get Severus involved. I’ll tell him, because that’s common courtesy, but I don’t want him involved. It just wouldn’t work. I suppose that’s the con of being the girl, because he doesn’t have to deal with mistakes that happen like this. He’s still got a year left, and besides, I know what he’s heading for when he leaves, and I don’t want any child of mine involved with that.**

Haneul wanted to stop reading, but she also knew she had to keep going. There was more to it, she was very sure of that.

**June 29th, 1977**

**I’m feeling less uncertain. I told Severus. He wasn’t bad about it. He even asked what he could do, although we both knew there was nothing. I feel more positive, too. Professor Dumbledore put me in contact with someone at the Ministry of Magic, so I can get a job, and helped me find somewhere to live, after I leave tomorrow. He’s done more than he needs to, I’m sure it’s out of pity. But I can’t complain, when there’s things to be done. But I don’t feel alone, as I did before. Once March arrives, I’ll never be alone again. And I’ve planned things out. Mother and Father won’t expect me home till August, and I’ll send them a letter once I’m more settled, tell them the basics. I haven’t told anyone else that I’m pregnant, nor do I plan to. Not yet, anyway. If we stay close, I might tell Hestia, because she’s always been there for me. But there’s no point creating a stir, not now. I’m sure that in a few years, everyone who used to know me will know, but I find that I don’t care. What is there to dwell over, really? The best I can do is be a good mother to this child, and not dwell on things in the past. I can’t change anything now. I do know that I’ll probably never tell anyone that Severus is the father, though. More for his privacy, really. I don’t think he wants me or my child associated with him. Even if he did, I don’t think I’d go around telling people that Severus Snape was the father of my child.**

Haneul did not stop reading because she thought the story was over, but because she found she didn’t want to read anything else. She did not feel shock, and she could not necessarily say why. This was a situation where she expected to feel shock, but the feeling wouldn’t come. Somehow, it did make sense, in a very twisted way. Is that why he’d always hated her? Even though her mother had always chosen for him to be absent, did Snape hate her because he was a reminder of how his life had very nearly been ruined by a mistake years earlier? And what exactly did ‘I know what he’s heading for’ mean? Remembering a conversation with Cara, years earlier, Haneul wondered if she had been right, and Snape really had been a dark wizard, maybe even still was. The bell rang, jerking her out of her reverie, and Haneul remembered that she was still at school, and had Ancient Runes to attend to. She shoved the diary into her bag, beneath her other books, and stood up. 

“Where were you?” Cara asked, as they unpacked their books amongst the chatter of the beginning of the class. 

“I needed some air.” She said, knowing without being told that the contents of that diary were still meant to be kept secret. “I was just walking in the grounds.”

“But that did not entirely clear your head?” Jae Chan asked, lightly, less as a question and more as a general observation. “You still seem quite distracted.”

“I’m just tired, that’s all.” Haneul lied.

Jae Chan nodded, either satisfied with the answer, or understanding of the fact that Haneul could not, or would not, talk about it if there was something further. Cara, on the other hand, narrowed her eyes, and Amaya raised an eyebrow. Haneul was quite glad neither of them could perform legilimency, because she could not focus on the lesson. She wished her mother, or Snape - who she assumed had been the one to send the diary - had provided more instructions. She was not sure if she was to never mention this again, or storm into the Potions Master’s office and throw things at him. The note had asked Snape to tell her mother when he had done the deed, but there was a chance that he had not, or perhaps was waiting for her to actually find out. He surely did not know her at all well enough to predict her to be inquisitive enough to open the small book at the first chance. 

If either Cara or Amaya were still suspicious about something bothering Haneul, they did not show it as the class filed out of Ancient Runes. Maybe Haneul looked less distracted, because she had spent the class deciding that she would ‘return’ the diary to Snape at some point that evening, if only she could figure out a way to get away from Cara, Amaya and Jae Chan after dinner, though she suspected that slipping away again would most definitely make Cara and Amaya so suspicious that they would never stop asking about what she had been doing. Haneul thought she noticed Cara whispering to Amaya behind her hand as they climbed up to Ravenclaw tower to put away their bags before dinner, and wondered what exactly they suspected.

“You know, if there’s something you need to do, or somewhere you need to be, I could always cover for you.” Jae Chan switched to his native language for the first time since arriving.

“What?” Haneul asked, glancing back at Amaya and Cara, who seemed deep in conversation, and probably wouldn’t have been listening if they had been speaking English.

“I’m not stupid, you know. Something is wrong, but it’s just a secret. I won’t ask, but if you need an excuse to get away, I can pretend you were helping me with something in the library, or something like that.”

Haneul analysed the situation. She did want to be able to escape her friends and finish the story, but she wasn’t sure that she wanted to admit to  _ anyone _ that anything had happened. 

“Alright.” She relented. “As long as you don’t ask anything else, because I can’t tell you.”

Jae Chan smiled his relaxed smile. “I won’t. People have secrets, and it’s fine if it’s nothing dangerous.”

She smiled at him gratefully, glad that he seemed to not be the sort to ask questions where they weren’t due. Guiltily, Haneul was visited by the thought that Cara and Amaya would probably never let her have this sort of secret, and felt glad that they weren’t paying attention. They seemed, strangely, engrossed in something else, almost like a secret, but certainly something private. Even though they talked of homework and quidditch through dinner, Haneul picked up their odd looks at each other, as if exchanging some secret message or waiting for a signal. After dinner, they didn’t even give Jae Chan a chance to lay his false story, and disappeared almost immediately. True to his word, Jae Chan did not ask any more questions, and instead left Haneul alone with her task.

By now, the entrance hall and great hall were empty. Most students were in the library or their common rooms, nothing on their mind but study. Truthfully, Haneul did not feel nervous either, as she descended the stairs down to the entrance hall. She had always thought that a moment like this would fill her with many different emotions, but then again, she had never been one to have outbursts, even when very angry or upset. Perhaps it was this controlled quality that her mother had always talked about, finally showing itself. The dimly lit, cool passageway that led to the dungeons was not daunting, maybe because she had come this way so many times for potions, or maybe because she knew it was empty, except for her one target. She would have expected her fist to shake as she knocked on his door, but it was quite as still, and the hand that held the diary was free of sweat.

“Come in.” Snape’s voice lacked all emotion, it did not give anything away - no shock, no expectancy, no understanding.

He looked up, presumably from marking, as Haneul pushed open the door. His impassive face flickered with understanding, for just a moment, before returning to the usual expression.

“I have something. I think it’s yours.” Haneul could not tell why she had said this, but placed the diary down on the desk that stood between them, her expression also unyielding.

“Do not insult your own intelligence.” He replied, picking up the small book, barely glancing at it. “I think that you already know that this belongs to your mother, surely you have already read it, or else you would not be here.”

“It was in  _ your _ possession most recently, though.” Haneul pointed out, still calm as ever. “This is your identity and secret’.” She quoted.

He did not reply, but instead plucked the note from the pages of the diary, and scanned the words, as if seeing them for the first time. It was acting - Haneul knew this already.

“You are, of course, correct.” 

“Why?” She asked, not entirely sure on what she was asking it about.

Snape considered her for a moment, seeming to turn her one word over in his mind. Then he got up, and strode around his desk, cloak flowing behind him.

“You are not to share this sort of information with anyone.” He said, upon reaching the far end of the office, appearing to be examining a jar of some purple liquid, with strange, curling plants suspended in it.

“Don’t insult my intelligence.” She glared at the back of his head. “Tell me, why does my mother hate you?”

“What your mother has said about me in front of you may very well be a lie. She may love you very much  _ now _ , but she was no more excited than I at first. Perhaps her writing is more positive. But we both agreed and accepted, whatever the world may have you believe, that this was an instance of a foolish mistake. I am sure she has changed how she feels, naturally, but do not think I was any less happy than her, not at first. If she hates me, it is not something that  _ I _ have ever been aware of, and something she has denied several times.”

“Can you prove that?”

He turned around. “Yes.”

“Why have you been a secret, when you’re here the whole time? My mother wrote that you were involved with people she didn’t approve of. But if it was that bad, you wouldn’t be here, would you?”

“How very.. Perceptive of you.” He was choosing his words carefully. 

“The entire story is more complicated than you think. You may suspect what you want about me, but you are, in many ways, correct. Due to my involvements with certain people and organisations, your mother never wanted me around. Not that it would have made a very large difference. We were not, and are not, in love. Neither of us wanted to subject the other to an empty marriage.”

“You didn’t have to marry my mother to be around.” Haneul pointed out. 

“You are, again, correct. I made the decision, for your safety, to remain a secret, even after my separation from those who influenced your mother’s original choice.”

“Can you prove  _ that _ ?”

He nodded, stiffly. “Your mother will tell you the same.”

“How can you prove it?”

“In due course, after you have the necessary defences to protect the information, there will be ways of showing, rather than telling. Professor Dumbledore will most likely consent to letting me use his pensieve for the task.” He looked directly at her for the first time. “I assume you know what one of those is.”

“Only vaguely. I’ve never seen one.”

“A pensieve is used for reviewing memories. In theory, it is the most useful device for relaying the truth.”

She nodded in understanding. Somehow, despite barely knowing her, he knew her quite well. Haneul was naturally inclined to mistrust what he said, having been vilified for years by Minjeong, even if the name and face of Snape had been wholly unassociated with the silent and unknown figure that Minjeong referred to in an offhand and scornful way.

“You mentioned defences. What did you mean?” The silence they had lapsed into was strangely not uncomfortable, if anything, it had been natural. 

“Perhaps you do not understand that the information which will explain all the things that you wish to know is sensitive and secretive. Whilst I doubt your friends, who are simply students, cannot do more than incessantly badger you, those who are more learned in magical arts have every ability to break into your mind and steal the things with which I plan to trust you. Thus, you shall have to learn to use occlumency to block out such intruders.” He gave her a look which asked if she knew what occlumency was. 

“The defence of the mind against magical intrusion.” Haneul supplied. “Protection against Legilimency, or mind reading.”

“The mind cannot be  _ read _ . Legilimency is not a simple practice of sifting through thoughts to find an intended target. It is far less precise-”

“But still dangerous.” Haneul found that she had no qualms about interrupting. “How do you do it?”

“There is not time to explain it in a complex-”

Haneul found frustration for the first time that evening. 

“You don’t have to go into detail. You can just give me a general idea.”

Snape paused, giving her a searching look, as if he wanted to question her, but couldn’t.

“Clear the mind of all emotions. Make it void of thought. That is the most rudimentary form of Occlumency.”

“But it’s obvious there;s something to hide.” Haneul forestalled him. 

“Quite. Suppressing only certain thoughts requires more control and skill. One cannot hope to be a successful liar if they can only clear their mind. It is a closed one, not a clear one, which one should aim to achieve. Close away all private thought and leave only that which is false or non-confidential on the surface. Allow it to be read so that intruders think they have gained the whole truth.”

Haneul now understood the impassive look she had always seen in the pair of black eyes. This was not a person void of emotion, but a person whose thoughts were carefully guarded for reasons beyond what she yet understood. But that was the whole point of this experience, that appearance cannot be relied on to tell a true story. 

“You had better leave, and avoid suspicion. I think it is more effective to meet at different times, a linear pattern will only raise eyebrows. Return at six o’clock on Thursday.”

No goodbyes were uttered between them, no acknowledgement of the things that had passed between them or the now inextricable link between two who had been far from each other. Haneul could still not, however, bring herself to feel shock, because somehow it seemed all correct, even if it was all beyond expectation. Everything seemed natural, like fate had always set this path but refused to illuminate it until it happened, that this future was always going to be the case despite the seemingly impulsive and unplanned choices made in the course of its creation.

She left the diary behind, because it still lingered with her that a person’s identity belongs with them, and that it would never truly be hers to control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll say nothing, but give you this: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1D5iAP-Z8h3es2FOsSXnHF-mFQ16JoyrnGZG2fWbtKEM/edit?usp=sharing


	16. Equilibrium

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Less turbulent, perhaps, but more furthering, I'd say.

Haneul found Jae Chan in the library, behind a shelf of books about water plants, writing a Transfiguration essay. True to his word, he asked no questions about her whereabouts, and instead produced her bag from behind a stack of books. It was quiet and comforting there, amongst dusty volumes that exhaled silence into the air but uttered loud words of distraction when delved into. Words of Switching Spells rang through Haneul’s head like a constant, chiming bell that threatened to consume her entirely. Was this the shock she had been unable to feel since  _ that _ morning? But the thoughts that consumed Haneul did not consist of the events that had passed that day, and she realised that her inability to concentrate was not born of shock but instead curiosity, and perhaps betrayal. She had always been sure that she knew her mother, yet now it felt oddly like she had been lied to about something. In a sense, she had, because Snape’s story, which he seemed confident in proving, did not fit with the original one Minjeong had told. Indeed, the biggest piece of evidence that backed up the new tale were the words of Minjeong herself. In that moment, Haneul longed for her mother, simply to ask her questions, not because it didn’t make sense, but because she did not want to keep feeling lied to.

“Did you see Amaya or Cara?” 

Haneul jumped at the sound of Jae Chan’s soft, gentle voice. 

“What?” She shook her head to clear it. “Not since dinner. I wasn’t in the common room.” She made some sort of gesture, referring to the secret locked inside of her. 

“Ah. They were not there when I went, a little earlier. I wasn’t sure if you knew anything.” He did not sound worried, only curious, and his brown eyes danced across the leather bound volumes as he twirled his quill, his sight clearly far from the library in that moment. 

“There might have been quidditch practice tonight, they’re probably either there or in the grounds.” Haneul rubbed her face, willing her brain to focus on Transfiguration. 

Jae Chan nodded, and then rested his chin on his hands. “You aren’t going to get any work done if your mind is foggy.” He said matter-of-factly. “Not even you.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Not even me?”

“I get the feeling that you’re quite good at homework, but I also think that right now, you’re very distracted. So you shouldn’t keep trying. I won’t ask you to tell me why, but this,” he leaned over and picked up her half-finished transfiguration essay and rolled it up, “is futile.”

Jae Chan’s perceptiveness was odd, because Haneul had never considered that boys understood feelings as intricately as he did, and had never expected him to understand her so well without even knowing what was bothering her. She wondered if he could actually perform legilimency, only that his eyes did not have an intrusive quality, and seemed to look only as deep as it was possible to go without magic. He did not seem the type to delve beyond where he was allowed, he seemed, uniquely, to view feelings as private until the owner saw fit to reveal them. 

“Why aren’t you more curious?” Haneul asked him, as they slung their bags over their shoulders to leave the library. 

His lips curled into his relaxed smile.

“You have me wrong. I am curious, very curious. But I don’t ask, because that would lead me nowhere. Secrets nearly always pique the interest of those around them, but it is not rewarding to ask and get no answer. You made it clear that you will not, or cannot tell me what exactly is going on, so there is little point in asking if it will just distress you further.”

“You’re odd.” Haneul said, decisively. 

Jae Chan did not look affronted, he actually smiled a little wider. “I am?”

Haneul nodded. “Most people wouldn’t think of others like that. Most people would just ask and ask and ask, until they annoyed you enough to make you tell them.”

“My mother said that the English can be nosy. I doubt she has any solid proof, seeing as she had never mixed with any English before, but perhaps she was right. My parents just taught me to respect secrets. There’s usually a very good reason.”

Haneul wanted to ask if he had experience in that, but she knew it wouldn’t be right to expect him not to ask, and yet ask herself. Instead, she thought about clearing her mind, and wondered how that was earthly possible. There was never a moment free of thought, even if it was not always the kind of thought that was dangerous. What was the difference between suppressing thoughts and just simply not thinking them? Surely, to suppress a thought you would have to think of it, which would defeat the purpose of suppressing it at all. Or was it subconscious, if you became good enough at it? Did the learned occlumens block intruders with hardly any effort, and had the process ingrained instinctively? She feared that instead of simply learning something new, she was about to push herself into a downward spiralling hole of curiosity.

When they reached the common room, it was buzzing with all life except Cara and Amaya, who were still as elusive as before. Haneul highly doubted Jae Chan’s claim that they could be in the library, and thought if they had been there, they would have found him fairly quickly. She originally thought that perhaps there had been a quidditch practice, but the team’s seeker, Cho Chang, was sitting by a window with some friends, so that clearly could not be the case. She watched an owl flutter over the grounds in the half-light, wondering how so quickly, secrets had wound their way like vines into what was once an open group. Or perhaps it was only presumption and suspicion, perhaps she was reading too far into absence that would be explained away the next day, or even that very evening. But Haneul would not be able to explain her own absence, or any to follow in the future weeks, so how could she expect to have Cara and Amaya explain theirs? The weight of concealment was heavy on her mind. Did it become easier as time passed, or as the mind closed more and more?

Was it all a lack of understanding? Snape had talked of that, how she could not possibly understand the importance and weight of the knowledge she was to acquire, not yet anyway. Was this heavy, daunted feeling only present because she didn’t understand it all? She looked up at the ceiling as she lay in bed, wondering exactly what had caused all this secrecy. Snape was right - she couldn’t imagine it, and therefore couldn’t understand it. Instead of fruitlessly trying, she focussed on what he had said about occlumency. Clearing the mind of all thought and emotion, wiping it clean. It was impossible to rid oneself of emotion, even a fifteen-year-old could grasp that knowledge, but that was not necessarily the way, Haneul thought to herself. It was a suppression, a rising above rather than pushing aside. 

This, of course, did not make it very much easier. Haneul did try, and she thought she had put considerable effort into it, to make her emotions irrelevant, to make her mind clear. She thought she did manage it, perhaps for half a minute at a time, but something always crept back in just as she was becoming more used to the feeling of nothing. It was tiring too, and despite the fact that the aim was nothing, it felt like a strain. Minds were supposed to be full, because it was a person’s thoughts that gave them their self, so did one even have an identity if they had no thoughts? It was unnatural to be empty. 

The next day dawned bright, yet with a distinct chill of autumn that had not been felt by the previous one. Cara and Amaya were present and unwhispering, as if they had not disappeared the previous evening, but seemed happy to not mention any of Haneul’s strange behaviour either, most likely to avoid anyone thinking about odd events of the day before. Haneul was sure that they were not asking her for explanations because they did not want to give their own, and that they knew it was the same for her. They would probably demand her to tell them what had changed yesterday if she asked them about their evening. 

"Stop being quiet.” Jae Chan said, quite lightly, as they descended for breakfast. “It’s too strange for you three.”

“Are we being quiet?” Cara asked.

Jae Chan nodded. “Yes. Usually, you at least complain about how tired you are in the mornings. But this morning, you’re quiet. It’s a little odd.”

“You could complain about how tired you are.” Amaya offered. “Maybe we’re trying to encourage you to start the conversation.”

“Alright.” Jae Chan stopped on the staircase, and yawned widely, stretching his arms out and groaning in a very good impression of Cara. 

“It’s  _ far _ too early.” He declared, mock glaring at each of them in turn, as if accusing them personally of being the cause of this. “And because we have transfiguration  _ and  _ potions, I think I will never recover, and will be completely and utterly exhausted until I drop dead from a serious illness, homework, this evening.”

He straightened up, but he didn’t get much of a response, because the three others were clutching each other, their laughter having broken the tense and secretive atmosphere in an instant, spreading a wide smile onto Jae Chan’s face more effectively than anything else.

In Transfiguration, they were continuing with vanishing spells. They had moved on from snails to rats, but unfortunately the ones Professor McGonagall had supplied were far too energetic, and much of the lesson was spent practicing summoning charms rather than vanishing spells, and there was a particularly sticky moment when Amaya vanished a leg on her desk and it threatened to fall, which would have sent rats, quills and ink all over the floor, but Cara made a quick save until Professor McGonagall restored the desk and gave Amaya a talking to about aiming more carefully. 

It really was quite easy to forget the changes forged between them in moments like these, because of how swiftly they could be overtaken by problems and delights of the moment. Haneul didn’t even think about what had happened until she was alone again, in the library, searching for a book about muggle transportation when her fingers brushed over a book called  _ Defence of the Magical Mind _ . She would not usually have been interested, but Occlumency found its way back to her, so she opened the book in hopes of finding the answers to her questions about closing her mind. 

_ The art of occlumency is little known to wizardkind who in this age do not set store by closing their minds and protecting their secrets. Despite this, it should not be looked down upon. Through transcending emotion and clearing your consciousness, a witch or wizard can truly hide that which they do not want an intruder to view. Through this process, they can even begin to replace the hidden thoughts with false ones, to further deter a truth-seeker. Such practice is an advanced form of Occlumency, however, and is usually inaccessible to beginners. It should be the final aim of the accomplished occlumens, although simply wiping one’s mind shall be sufficient enough for a beginner. _

_ Frequent practice is vital to sustained success, and it is recommended that in order to become accustomed to the art, a practitioner should try to keep their mind clear whenever possible. In particular, those thoughts which you most wish to hide should be particularly well-guarded at all times in order to be most effective at concealment. An accomplished occlumens will keep his or her thoughts constantly guarded and will become so used to it that opening of one’s mind is more of a deliberate act than closing it. It could be helpful for a training occlumens to practice with a witch or wizard who is relatively able to perform legilimency, in order to become used to the feeling of having one’s mind invaded and also to learn to throw out unwanted visitors to your private thoughts.  _

The book was about as useful as Snape had been. It had clearly been written by a good Occlumens, but like Snape the writer had assumed that the reader was already learned in the art and not a beginner trying to find some tips. It seemed that it was not something you could learn from a book, perhaps more of a skill that you needed to have the predisposition for to be able to do well. But, Haneul thought to herself, as she walked back to Ravenclaw tower, she  _ did _ have the predisposition for it. Hadn’t her mother always told her that she didn’t get too consumed by her emotions, and that she was a naturally controlled person? And it was surely her mother who knew her best, and could truly judge her character with the most accuracy.

It was almost like Minjeong had heard Haneul think of her, because when Haneul reached the Ravenclaw common room, Cara told her that Wendy, her mother’s owl, was waiting in the dormitory and had refused to let anyone untie the letter she had affixed to her leg. Haneul didn’t realise until that point exactly how much she had wanted to receive this sort of thing, although really she should have known by now that everything she wanted was something she didn’t realise yet.

_ Dear Haneul _

_ I just received a letter from Severus explaining that he sent you my old diary, and telling me what you have discussed with him.  _

_ I want to say first that I’m sorry for lying. I did lie about some things - I’m sure that will become clear soon enough if it isn’t already. I lack your rationality and control, and I think that wounded your perceptions. I hope that if nothing else, you can now begin to know the truth about the last fifteen years. I think Severus impressed on you how important secrecy is, and you have probably worked out that it was so crucial that even you couldn’t know anything until you became old enough. I’m not sure I ever quelled your curiosity, but I always hoped that my own harsh statements might do that, although, really it may have just furthered your desire to know that which you couldn’t. I promise you that when you come home, I will answer all the questions that I can. I think that perhaps there are even things that I don’t know, maybe your knowledge will surpass mine on all of this.  _

_ I don’t know how much I can do to reassure you right now, because I’m not exactly sure how you’re feeling. Severus said you were not particularly emotional, although I don’t know whether he was lying to make me feel more at peace, or whether you were just hiding things. Although he’s certainly a skilled legilimens, I don’t know whether he would have tried to read your thoughts. However, please take information he gives you with confidence. He’s not a liar, and I know he wouldn’t have sent you that diary if he wanted to lie to you. I know that I have lied but please trust that you’ll be told the truth now. I know too that trust is hard, but please trust Severus. If you need a reason, let it be that I trust him.  _

_ I will tell you my story too, when I can see you in person. _

_ All my love _

_ Mother _

Haneul folded the now smooth letter into four, and placed it in the inside pocket of her robes, her mind once again full of thought. An admission of lies, but what lies? It was all still so foggy, this story she had to learn and then protect from everyone. And her mother did not even know everything? Or she simply suspected such? What information would there have been that one could trust a fifteen-year-old girl with, and not a grown woman? Haneul knew her mother to be serious and understanding, and in her mind, the perfect keeper of secrets. She could perhaps understand that Snape would not tell Minjeong everything about himself, but could not see why he would tell  _ her _ . It relied on her being able to protect herself, something that she was not sure she could yet do. And there it was again - occlumency. The strange magic that would now rest upon her shoulders for years to come was slowly becoming more real and more important. And then, as she wanted to do it, she was able to do it. She wanted to clear her mind, and that is what it did, because her subconscious recognised that finally, as she had unknowingly made the choice of truth, she was ready to step forward.

Being able to clear her mind was a comfort in some ways to Haneul, who had never wanted to disappoint someone or be able to do less than expected, but it did not alleviate her curiosity, a feeling that burned inside her during moments of solitude or disengagement from the world. The days trickled by so slowly that she could have drawn each one in detail, yet she also could not recall most of what happened in the few days between the beginning and the next step. She could feel the wondering eyes of Amaya or Cara on her at plenty of points, and was sure their whispers theorised about her distance from them, but she couldn’t think what to tell them either. She didn’t want to keep secrets from the two people who had become closest to her, but there was no other way. Haneul hoped that after Thursday, when her curiosity could be slightly alleviated, she might be able to focus more on being who she actually was, and would become just a student again, but she would have to wait, because time behaved in odd ways, and stretched out, this place trying to hold onto this Haneul for as long as it could.


	17. Meet in Your Memory

When Thursday did dawn, it didn’t feel different. But it would have been foolish to think that it would, because it was now clear that days on which strange or exciting things happened, it never really felt like it was bound to be that way on waking up. Haneul had already made her plan, and decided she would ask Jae Chan to cover for her again. She knew that Cara actually did have quidditch practice, and had to rely on Amaya spending her evening there, rather than with Jae Chan. So Haneul rose early like she had on the day she had received the diary, though it was deliberate this time, and she was more decisive in her movements to shake sleep off of her. In that early light, she felt more disconnected from the other five still soundly slumbering than she had on the first day they had met, before she ever knew them properly. And it was not because of the secrets she guarded, but because she could already feel that something was descending over her, creeping towards her.

It was not as hard to ask Jae Chan for help this time. Maybe because Haneul knew him less than her other friends, or maybe because she had already done it once, or maybe, she concluded, a mixture of both.

“I need your help again tonight.” She spoke in a low voice despite the fact that anyone who was in the common room at this hour was too sleepy to listen in.

“What with?” He replied, leaning in a little closer, sensing the secrecy.

“I have…” Haneul paused, choosing her words carefully. “Somewhere to be tonight. I need you to cover for me. If Cara, or Amaya, or anyone asks.”

“Ah.” He nodded without a question. “Like last time? You want me to say you are helping me.”

Haneul nodded. “Yes. Exactly. Can you do that?”

“Yes. Because it is clear that it is important.” He flashed his reassuring smile. “If you are going to feel guilty about it, don’t. You do not need to fret about protecting what needs to be protected.”

If Cara or Amaya had any idea that anything at all was different, they did not show it. They were more interested in talking of the escaped murderer - Sirius Black - who had been sighted near the school the previous week - and why he had come so close to Hogwarts. It had been worse the week before, people checking over their shoulders and worrying about him showing up in the castle, but it was still eerie that he had not been caught, or sighted again since the previous week. 

“He could be far away now, you know. If I was a mass-murderer on the run, and I got spotted, I’d make myself scarce in that area pretty quick, I think.” Amaya pointed out after Cara reeled off her explanation of why he was definitely in Hogsmeade.

“Not necessarily.” Cara narrowed her eyes as they made their way into the Great Hall to the smell of bacon. “Maybe he  _ meant _ to be sighted, so everyone would think like you, but he’s going to pounce after we’ve all let our guard down.”

“But.” Haneul interjected, “What would he want with a  _ school _ ?”

“Large population size.” Cara said, immediately. “Clearly, he kills for the fun of it, and there’s lots of us here, so if he wants a large sample size, he could target us.”

“We’re no different to a town or a city.” Amaya retorted as they sat down. “He would have killed already if he just wanted to cause a lot of harm.”

“Was he not a supporter of that, ah, Lord-” Jae Chan broke off as Amaya looked daggers at him, Cara dropped her spoon and Haneul poked him in the arm. “Sorry, was he not a supporter of you-know-who?”

“Yes, Black was meant to be right in his inner circle.” Cara informed him. “But why does that matter in this situation?”

“Well, it is only a guess, but I remember I read somewhere that you-know-who’s only fear was Professor Dumbledore. And he is Headmaster here. Perhaps Sirius Black wishes to kill Dumbledore.”

“It works, but it also doesn’t.” Haneul took a thoughtful sip of pumpkin juice. “He might want Dumbledore dead, I think all of you-know-who’s supporters did, maybe still do. But Dumbledore is one of, if not the most, powerful wizards of the time. You-know-who was  _ incredibly  _ powerful at his peak, and he never managed to get rid of Dumbledore. Even if he wanted to, I don’t think he’s delusional enough to think he can kill Dumbledore if his master couldn’t.”

“He might be, they say you go mad in Azkaban.” Cara contradicted, pointing her fork at Haneul.

“Mad enough to think you’re more powerful than you really are? We all felt those dementors on the train. They make you feel like you can’t do anything at all. That’s the opposite of what you’re talking about.” Amaya said, skeptically.

“It could be an… after-effect.” Jae Chan theorised. “He was under the influence of the dementors for so long, that when he escaped, the contrast of normality and the dementors gave him a false sense of self.”

They spent the rest of breakfast, and their walk to Defence Against the Dark Arts debating who was right. Jae Chan and Cara were sure of their hypothesis, but Amaya and Haneul could not be convinced of it. Not that they had another answer - because Sirius Black’s escape was shrouded in much mystery either way.

The topic of Sirius Black was quickly forgotten in the Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson. Professor Lupin had, in their previous lesson, taught them theory on a variety of jinxes and hexes, and had promised the class a practical lesson, as they would need to be able to perform the spells in the practical section of the O.W.L. As had been the patronus lesson, it was quite enjoyable and amusing to practice these on each other, and even more so when the subject of a jinx reacted quickly enough with a shield charm and the original caster ended up the victim of their own spell. By the end of the lesson, Lupin looked the happiest he’d ever been, which was probably helped by the fact that he looked distinctly healthier, no doubt because he had had access to proper sustenance. 

“Very good, all of you. Well done.” He declared, after everyone had had any necessary counter-jinxes applied and were sitting back at their desks. “You’ll certainly do well on your practical examinations if you keep to that standard. Shin, could you come up here and get the ghoul essays, hand them back to everyone? I was very pleased with those too.”

Haneul rose from her seat, and was thinking about her O.W.Ls as she walked up the classroom to Lupin’s desk, so deeply that she almost didn’t hear him whisper ‘could I have a word with you after the lesson?’ as he handed back the marked scrolls. She could not think what this might be about - he would know nothing, surely, about the events earlier that week. Was it about the essay? It couldn’t be, could it? 

Lupin waited for the classroom to empty before he spoke, and he was looking out of one of the large windows as he did so, playing with the frayed hem on his left sleeve.

“I thought I should apologise.” He said, his voice as mild as ever.”

“Apologise?” She echoed.

“I lied.” He turned his head to face her at last. “I told you I didn’t know anything about your mother, or your father. Which was untrue.”

“It was?”

“I knew they were friends, her and Severus. I knew most of who was friends with your mother, in fact.”

“You don’t need to be sorry.” Haneul said, gathering her words only moments before they came out of her mouth. “It was meant to be a secret, so you didn’t do anything wrong.”

Lupin nodded, the sun highlighting the grey in his hair. “I know. But I just thought, it would be right to say sorry.” He smiled in a tired, but very genuine way. “And I thought I would reassure you too. I’m not going to tell anyone.”

“Because you have a conscience? Or because you don’t want to be turned into a horned toad?”

His smile widened, and he looked more awake and alert. “I think a bit of both.” And he looked his age for just a small moment.

By the time Haneul caught up with the other three, break was nearly over. They were standing in the courtyard, apparently still debating. Haneul assumed it would be about Sirius Black, until she saw that Amaya and Cara appeared to be on the same side, and they were quite forcefully telling him something. Haneul hoped to overhear them, but by the time she got close enough, Cara noticed her and they immediately stopped talking. 

“Where were you?” Amaya asked, seemingly to cover this up.

“Lupin wanted a word about my essay.” She replied, lying almost without even thinking. “Just about something to do with ghoul origins.”

“You think we believe that?” Cara raised an eyebrow, skeptically, a smile playing on her lips.

“What do you mean?” Haneul hoped it wasn’t obvious in her face that she was forcing thought from her mind.

“We all know you’re Lupin’s favourite.” Amaya explained, a questioning smile on her face. “He wanted to go on about how good your essay was, didn’t he?”

“What? No! I got an E. He was just explaining something I’d got wrong.” She replied hastily, hoping that none of them would ever find out the real reason for why Lupin had called her back..

“If you say so.” Cara rolled her eyes and checked her watch. “We’d better go. Burbage might bite our heads off if we’re late.

Strangely, Haneul felt less distance from her friends that day. The Muggle Studies lesson turned out to be fun, because they learned all about the muggle perception of the wizarding community and magical creatures. Haneul supposed that muggles did deserve some credit, for their knowledge of broomsticks as a flying instrument and perhaps their perceptiveness to include pointed hats in many depictions of witches, but it was funny to learn about the strange legends of evil witches with green skin and warts or the ideas of herb-burning and curses. As they walked to lunch, talking animatedly about muggle literature about witches and wizards, everything was completely normal again, there was no rift, no distance, and no secrets.

Secrets, Haneul presumed, as she made her way back to Snape’s office that evening, were only an issue if the other knew they were being kept, and if the keeper knew this. When they were not being thought of, secrets would vanish like smoke. So they could be controlled, and could only descend when, like a dark cloud, the mind’s controller wound them from the realm beyond the mind’s atmosphere into the realm of consciousness. Which came back again to Occlumency. They could stay in that above realm if the greatest and most advanced level was achieved, hence why a skilled Occlumens, someone like Snape, did not trouble when keeping secrets, and did it so smoothly and instinctively.

Like before, there were no nerves as Haneul knocked, and nothing but impassiveness as Snape uttered the same two words as last time. The office was mostly the same, too, perhaps the books or papers had shifted or been replaced, maybe the chair was in a slightly different position, but the same potions and ingredients lined the wall like some grotesque wallpaper, and the same low light permeated the dusky room. The only real difference was the stone basin that sat on the desk, giving off a silvery, wispy light, It occurred to Haneul that even in the brightest sunlight, it would still glow as it did in this lower, yellowy light.

“That’s a pensieve.” She said. It wasn’t a question, more an observation, a recognition.

Snape did not bother to tell her that she was right. 

“What I think most necessary to show you first is…” He paused, seemingly to sift through his thoughts for the right expression. “A memory I share with your mother. I think it will answer most of the questions that you had the last time we met.”

“Aren’t you going to break into my mind and tell me I’m not good at Occlumency yet?” Although she was sure that there was some sarcasm in her question, it was not altogether a joke.

His lips twitched. It was not a smile, perhaps an involuntary movement of slightly irritated annoyance. 

“If you are confident that you can repel, or at the very least slow me down, I shall oblige to let you try.” He offered.

“You’d spit on my skill. But I don’t think I could progress with no practice.”

“Spit on your skill?” He repeated back to her. “Where does this idea stem from?”

Haneul gave him an annoyed but amused look. 

“I can guess, without much difficulty, that you’re very good at Occlumency. No doubt what I can do is comparable to a baby’s first word.”

“There is only one way to know.” He pulled his wand from inside his cloak and pointed it at her. “ _ Legilimens _ .” 

Haneul had about a second’s warning to try and clear her mind, and she was only half-ready when the spell struck and the room seemed to swell and blur. Jae Chan was on the stairs, impersonating Cara. Haneul was under a tree with a black book in her hands. She was reading the Daily Prophet. She-

“No.” 

The word burst from her mouth without conscious effort, and the office spun into vision again. There was the pensieve, and Snape, looking a little surprised, but not too shocked. Haneul realised that she was panting slightly.

“What did you not want me to see?” He asked, tucking his wand back into his cloak.

Haneul looked at him, her eyes asking the question.

“You threw me out. What was it that you were so averse to me seeing? You didn’t seem to care much about any of the other things.”

“I… I don’t know.” She racked her brains to think of what had been about to come to mind. “Nothing in particular. I suppose… I recognised that my mind was being broken into, and didn’t want that to keep happening. Is that not how it’s supposed to work?”

“It is supposed to be like that. However, most are triggered by a particularly private thought to give them the mental strength to deflect an attacker. Nonetheless, it was sufficient. I think that is enough protection for this particular memory, as, like I said previously, it is not one that only I possess.”

He drew his wand again, but did not point it at anything. Instead, he touched it to his temple, and as he pulled it away, a thread of gas - or was it liquid - followed the tip of the wand, and fell, at its direction, into the pensieve. Something about the substance inside seemed to change, become more elusive, piquing more curiosity. 

“Submerge your face in the pensieve, that is how one views the memories inside.”

At first, it was a cool, light sensation on her nose and then cheeks, but as Haneul leaned further forward, she felt a jolt, and was then falling through black nothingness, until-

She landed in the summer, on the green grass of the lawn next to the lake in the Hogwarts grounds. There were other students, sitting on the ground in groups, or else chatting in clusters. It was very good weather, but more than that a sense of excitement hung in the humid air, smiles present on most faces. There was a soft bumping sound bh=ehind Haneul, and she looked around to see she had been joined in the memory by Snape, who quickly took off in the direction of a large tree, further away from most of the other people, a little more quiet and secluded. 

A girl stood behind the tree, and at first, Haneul thought it was herself, until she got a closer look, and with a jolt realised that it was her mother, when she had been in Hogwarts. She looked strange, wearing the uniform, when she did not look much different to the present day Minjeong, only that her hair was loose. Eighteen-year-old Minjeong looked nervous, but determined, as if she was facing something that was necessary, but not desirable, a duty.

About a minute passed, and then someone else approached the tree. A skinny, unhealthy looking boy, with the same hooked nose, sallow skin and black eyes of the older man standing beside Haneul. This was a younger Snape, from fifteen years earlier. He did not look as nervous as Minjeong, but instead looked curious, and maybe confused. When he rounded the tree, Minjeong looked up from examining her hands.

“Why did you want to meet me?” Young Snape spoke first, and a little quietly.

“Because…” Minjeong drew in a deep breath. “Well, I’m pregnant.”

Any relaxedness in younger Snape disappeared, shock crossing his face and taking all colour from it.    


“Are you sure?” He asked, even though he was not convincingly curious. It was clear that he knew she was not lying.

“Yes. I’m sure.” Minjeong was impossible to read.

"What do I need to-”

“Nothing. You don’t need to do anything.” She said simply. “I’m not telling you because I want you to do anything about it, it’s just polite to let you know.”

“Nothing? But-”

“Look.” She interrupted him again. “You have a year left here. Even if I did want you to do something, you wouldn’t be able to. We both know we have no future, not together. I can deal with this.” Now she looked at him with some contempt. “Anyway. I know what you’ll become, when you leave. You want to become one of those people involved with you-know-who. And I don’t want myself, or any child of mine, involved with that.” 

“But- but what are you going to do?” Young Snape burst out, his face twisting with confusion, disbelief and shock. 

“That’s my business.” She said, matter-of-factly. “You just need to live your life. Do what you want. Forget about this.”

As the scene dissolved, young Snape’s face seemed to ask the same question that she was wondering. Why had Minjeong told Snape anything if she didn’t actually want him to do anything?

The world reformed in another familiar location, but in winter. There stood Minjeong alone, again, but she was in the back garden of her house - Haneul’s home. She looked a bit older too - perhaps a few years had passed since the last memory. A few seconds later, a man appeared out of nowhere. It was Snape again, but he matched his current self a little more, his face less youthful, more worn and pained than before.

“Is it true?” Minjeong asked him, coldly. She had drawn her wand and pointed it at him. “Is what Dumbledore said true?”

Younger Snape seemed caught off guard by this, and did not immediately reply. His eyes wandered to a window, on the upper level of the house. Finally, his gaze came back to the wand in his face. 

“Is  _ what _ true?” He asked her, equally as coldly. 

“Dumbledore said- told me- that you defected. You joined our side.”

“Yes. That is true.” These four words seemed to cause him physical pain. His black eyes, previously impassive, seemed to swell with regret.

“Why?”

“That is between me and him.” Snape said calmly. “Would you lower your wand?”

She lowered it, but continued to look at him with an expression that could have killed. “You didn’t think to tell me?”

“Why should it concern you? If I recall correctly, it was  _ you _ who, years ago, told me not to do anything about our slip-up. We have had no contact, I saw no reason to mention it. It does not really change things.”

“Yes it does. It does change things.”

Neither said anything for a few moments. Snape seemed to think something over, before he spoke again.

“You want me to play happy families? Because I am not a death eater?”

“No. Not at all. I’ve never wanted that. But maybe, now you are not one, you could spend your time taking interest in  _ your _ child.”

“That is a foolish thing to say.”

“Foolish?  _ You’re _ calling  _ me  _ foolish?”

“Use your head.” He said, tersely. “In the eyes of almost everyone, I remain a death eater. That includes the Dark Lord. It was your idea to keep her out of all reach of the dark arts, and such will be impossible if the Dark Lord discovers she exists. Just because my situation has changed does not mean that every situation has changed. I must not act differently, because as far as almost anyone is concerned, I have not changed. And you will not tell anyone, either, for it will lead to certain death for myself, and perhaps others.”

She did not seem to be able to argue with him.

“This is not an argument we will have. You can ask Dumbledore, if you happen to need more convincing.” 

He turned on the spot, and vanished again. Haneul felt a pull on her arm, and another jolt, and she was flying through nothing once again, until her feet hit solid ground, and she was back in Snape’s office, in the present day.

“How long passed between those two events?” She asked, not sure why this was the first thing she wanted to know.

“Around three years.” Snape replied, dipping his wand into the pensieve and retrieving the memory he had cast into it.

“And what happened in between?”

“Various things.” He said, vaguely.

“Things you won’t tell me?”

“Not yet. Perhaps at a later date, when you secure your mind a little more. It is not something I share extremely often, but if it is necessary, and you can protect it, I could, perhaps, show you.”

She nodded. “I need to hide it under false thoughts, don’t I?”

“Yes.” He did not seem at all phased by the magnitude of his request, unconsciously playing with his fingers.

“How do you do it?” Haneul asked him, frankly. She hoped he would understand that she was specifically asking about his own practice, not in general.

“Repetition.” His eyes strayed to the walls and ceiling, as if he was trying to gleam an answer from them. “No one can expect to succeed at something if they do not practice it. The mind is far less simple than many would first consider. It is many-dimensional. Before one can close their mind, they must first master it and understand it. It is not necessarily important to practice under attack, only to learn how your own mind works. It is less about ceasing to think a thought, more about identifying the deeper part of one’s mind and placing the private thoughts there, and layering the falsehoods above it so as to conceal it from intrusion.”

“Makes more sense than any books.” Haneul said, more to the room than anyone directly. “Even if it’s not very simple.”

“It is not supposed to be simple. Hence why it is not taught to the general population here, and hence why it is overlooked as a defensive art.” Annoyance seemed to flash across his sallow face, although it was not completely clear which part of his speech had made him feel that way.

There was a pause, as if the world had momentarily stopped in order to allow these words to hang in the air.

“I have no doubt that you shall be able to achieve what I set out. However, it is not a quick feat, even for someone who seems to already possess the natural qualities to restrict your mind. Whilst I do not think only having your mind broken into is sufficient enough to become at a satisfactory level of Occlumency, I do relent that it is still a necessary place to begin. Thus, we should meet perhaps once a week for some form of practice, until such a time that you are good enough.” It was neither a question or an order, Haneul didn’t feel that she could say no, but she also didn’t want to say no.

Haneul nodded. “That’s fair. When?”

“It is not very… subtle to meet at the same time each week. If you return here at seven o’clock, next Friday, that will do.”

She nodded again, before turning towards the door. No words were needed,but before she had closed it behind her, Haneul glanced back. She met his eyes for only a second, but that second was long enough for her to realise for the first time that she had been wrong to think they looked nothing alike, because he had black eyes, and so did she. She felt the same jolt as she closed the door as she had in the pensieve. 

How had this been overlooked in the past? Haneul had almost always known, subconsciously, that her eye colour was not a feature she shared with her mother, but had never thought about it more deeply than that. But they both had black eyes, she now realised, perhaps the only physical trait they shared. Fate had been very clever, making them so unalike in looks, concealing that bond so well simply by luck. Or was it because she was not destined to be like him? She was always meant to be her mother’s daughter, always supposed to resemble Minjeong. Strong, good, protective Minjeong who had done so much for the good of someone else, who had always wanted the best for Haneul despite being thrown a lot that she had not wanted. She had always made the best and hidden any resentment she may have had. Haneul found herself forgiving her mother’s lies, because she realised that they did not matter. Minjeong knew that if the truth was ever revealed, it would explain it all so well. 

Neither Minjeong or Snape had gone against the other’s wishes - both had made the same agreement, same decision, so that neither could be blamed. Even if one or the other had ever teetered on the edge of wanting something different, Minjeong’s strength and Snape’s quietness meant that nothing ever changed. Had Minjeong, even for a fleeting moment, wanted to argue with Snape? Probably. But she had not done so, because she was clever enough to work out that he was right, and could swallow her own pride and admit she had been foolish to assume that he would ever become affectionately involved with his endearingly nicknamed ‘slip-up’. But that didn’t hurt. Haneul had never had much to be sure about when it came to her family, but she had always known that her greatest difference from many around her was that she had been brought into existence by human mistake. Perhaps the sky had sent her for her purpose to come, but it had not been human planning. Knowing that she had been a mistake in a memory did not cause her to feel betrayal. 

The whole story felt like it had unravelled, but Haneul knew it had not. That unspoken time between the first and second memory, the time following the last as well, still unknown but their importance clear despite that. But she knew about him a bit more now, and that was enough for one night after so long of nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, read away: https://docs.google.com/document/d/13p1bkcMS3gwbCYafqCbmk-ar8aqIt26QJPJKtAGB4xY/edit?usp=sharing


	18. An Old Mission

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are a little late this week - I've been busy! But they're here now - enjoy!

_ Dear Mother _

_ Thanks for your letter, I’m sorry I didn’t reply immediately, I’ve been busy throughout September. _

_ I don’t want you to feel guilty about lying. One thing I’ve come to understand is that there are two types of lies - lies for the good, and lies for the bad. You lied for the good, and where it was necessary, so I can’t feel anger at you for it. I also trust you, probably more than anyone, and I’ve had that trust for a while, so it’s hard to crush that just with one or two small lies.  _

_ I won’t pretend I don’t have questions, but I think they’re ones that I should ask you when I see you next. I also wonder if perhaps they may be answered for me in weeks to come, so maybe I won’t ever need to ask them.  _

_ I feel like I have a lot to tell you, but I also can’t think of the right words to use. Have you ever had that feeling? We have a new Defence against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Lupin. I think you knew him, he’s much better than last year’s. I’m hoping he’ll stick around for a bit longer than Lockhart did. We also got a new student, which was a surprise. His name is Jae Chan. He’s very nice, and he manages to put up with Cara and Amaya too.  _

_ Did you hear that Sirius Black was sighted near Hogwarts? I wonder if it has anything to do with what you told me about in the summer. He’s not been seen since, everyone has their theories, but of course we can’t really be sure about anything. There are dementors all around the castle, I don’t think he could get in, but I still think something bigger than either of us knows is going on. Maybe I’m listening to Cara’s theorising too much, I’m not sure.  _

_ I don’t know that I want you to answer this in a letter, but I’ll ask it to you, maybe so you can think about it yourself. _

_ How did you feel? _

_ See you at Christmas, _

_ \- Haneul _

Hogwarts life was very much a routine, and Occlumency seemed to find its place within that quite easily and quickly. Cara and Amaya did not object to Jae Chan and Haneul supposedly spending a large amount of time with each other, studying, and in fact seemed to find it more and more funny. Haneul wished she could know  _ why _ they were finding it amusing, but she had no idea how to perform legilimency, and had to instead use logic to try and figure it out. She concluded that Amaya and Cara must assume there was something more than friendship bubbling between herself and Jae Chan, and that their sustained time alone was for romantic purposes. Haneul found that this idea made her amused, because it seemed so outlandish. While certainly an uncommonly warm-hearted person, Haneul could not see Jae Chan as a romantic interest. Perhaps it was because he slotted in so well to their friendship group, a mellow and relaxed character to balance Cara’s more loud and affectionately aggressive nature, interested enough to listen to others, yet also quite full of things to say, should a person be in a listening mood. The idea of him progressing beyond a best friend was not right - in the same way that the idea of Cara or Amaya becoming more than a friend was not right. But it didn’t really matter what Cara or Amaya assumed, as long as it wasn’t the truth.

And, despite her low-level worry that someone would find out everything, Haneul had to admit that logically, it didn’t seem possible anyway. She had had no clue for so long - why would anyone else be able to guess it more easily than her? Minjeong had held the secret close to her for many years, hiding it even from her own daughter, and as far as Haneul was aware, she was no Occlumens. She mostly chose to forget about that possibility, because there was so much else to think about. Even though she had settled into a routine, there was still always plenty going on. Obviously, the teachers had not stopped piling on the homework, because O.W.Ls did not stop just because one needed to learn to protect their mind. 

It was also becoming colder, too, the last dregs of warmth slowly but surely draining from the castle and grounds as September wore on, perhaps even more so than the year before. This may have had something to do with the dementors hovering ominously over each entrance to the castle, as Professor Lupin had spent a double lesson explaining all about long-term effects of Dementors, which was necessary for their O.W.L exams, but not overly reassuring considering there were so many dementors in quite close proximity to the castle. 

“A Dementor is perhaps one of the worst creatures a human can face. Not necessarily because they possess extreme strength, but because rather than taking a toll on a person’s physical body, they eat away at your mental state. You can’t do anything if you’re mentally weakened. Dementors cause such despair that those exposed to them for long periods of time, in a sustained way, will lose all hope, all happiness, even their sense of self. We cannot be our true selves if we are robbed of parts of our memories. That is, perhaps, the biggest danger of Dementors. They have the power to take away your self, rather than weakening your body physically.”

Amaya raised her hand. “Sir, is that what happened to Sirius Black? Is that why they say he’s mad?”

Lupin looked suddenly very grave, but also very sad. 

“I couldn’t say for sure. But I think that everyone who’s spent as much time in Azkaban as he has is bound to lose themselves, if they had not already.”

“But Black was already mad! He couldn’t go mad  _ again _ , could he?” Piped up Olivia. 

“Perhaps he was, perhaps he wasn’t.” Lupin looked almost wistfully out of the window and leaned against his desk. “Madness takes different forms. Madness from being driven to do something for a master you’re almost intoxicated by… madness from being trapped around soul-sucking creatures for years… It’s not all the same.”

“ _ Soul-sucking _ ?” Cara nudged Haneul as she whispered this. 

“Yes. Soul-sucking.” Lupin replied, grimly, having heard her. “A Dementor’s most horrific weapon lies beneath their hood. They do not kill, they take a person’s soul. Their being. Their self. All their memories, thoughts, feelings and personality. You can survive without a soul, but it is not a life anyone would want. You just… wander the earth, with nothing but a body. You cannot recover. You cannot make new memories, new emotions. Once you have been subject to the dementor’s kiss, there is no way to reverse it.”

Silence spread throughout the classroom, every student hanging onto Lupin’s every word. A few people glanced furtively at each other, but mostly kept their gazes fixed on him, the possibility of what he had said too great and horrible to even consider as real. This terrible possibility, a life that was not a life, emptiness.

“As you learned in our first lesson, the only defence against dementors is the patronus charm. You are not required to be able to perform one of these in your practical O.W.L, but you will have to know the theory about the charm. I think you already know quite a lot, but we will brush up again.”

The class was still silent, having not quite caught up with Lupin’s talk of exams, something so small in comparison to the loss of a soul. Slowly, Cara raised her hand.

“Yes?” Lupin asked her, as all heads in the classroom turned to Cara.

“Sir, is this what will happen to Sirius Black? If he’s caught? The dementor’s kiss?”

A collective breath was drawn in the class. 

“Yes.” Lupin nodded, and he looked weary and grey. “That is what will happen, I believe.”

Haneul thought about what Sirius Black had done, what most other people didn’t know yet, and a burning sense of justice flared through her for a moment. Yes, he deserved that, not just for causing so much death, but for robbing a boy of his family so young. Or did he? Was that truly awful, for Black himself? His last moments before the kiss would be terrible, fear filled, but then, like death, it would be over. He would not know what had happened, he would never remember again. So was that bad? People were murmuring around her about how this was right and just, although Haneul couldn’t truly be sure. Lupin let the class whisper amongst themselves for a few moments, before he raised his hand for silence again.

“Now, which one of you can explain to me what exactly a patronus is?”

Nobody raised their hands. Not because they didn’t know - it was a class full of Ravenclaws, and each one of them could probably recall it, but because Lupin was moving too fast after having dropped a very large piece of knowledge on them about the Dementor’s kiss.

“I’m sure at least one of you remembers.” Lupin said, mildly, clasping his hands behind his back and sweeping his gaze over the classroom. “Shin? Can you tell us?”

Haneul snapped out of her haze of thoughts as her name broke through it. Patronuses. 

“A patronus is a sort of guardian.” She said, not necessarily in control of her own words, they seemed to flow out of her subconscious whilst her front thoughts remained on Sirius Black. “It protects your positive thoughts, your hopes. So a dementor can’t truly affect you, because your happiness and hope is protected and can’t be stolen.”

“Quite correct.” Lupin smiled falsely, his eyes still not entirely present. “A patronus will also protect from a Lethifold, although I highly doubt any of you will ever face one of those.” He seemed to shudder. “Some say the Lethifold is worse than the Dementor, but I’m not sure.” 

“A Lethifold,” he continued, “Is a dark creature, it looks quite like a black cloak. You can find a picture on page 126 of your books, I believe. They are carnivorous, and feed on humans. However, most people who face them never even know they are a victim, because they attack at night.”

The same silence fell over the class again, as some students had opened their books to see a picture of a Lethifold. It looked fairly innocuous, Haneul thought, leaning over to see the image in Jae Chan’s open book. It was like a hooded cloak, only there seemed to be nothing supporting its shape. It was almost like a dementor, only it did not look rotted, and the hood was empty rather than pulled over any sort of face.

“Lethifolds suffocate their victims, and then consume them. They leave almost no trace, so it is hard to know exactly who has been a victim of an attack. Only a patronus will deflect them, as demonstrated by Flavius Belby, who survived an attack in 1782.”

It had been a grim lesson. The Dementor’s kiss and Lethifolds could not really be expected to bring much joy, but the rain pounding down outside the windows made the fifth-years feel even more dreadful as they left what was usually one of their favourite classes for dinner. It made Haneul want to learn the Patronus charm even more, for she could still not shake off the acute horror of the idea of having your memories and entire self sucked out of you. 

“Do you think Black deserves the kiss?” Jae Chan asked the other three at large, but seemed to be wondering himself. “It is an odd form of justice.”

“He deserves it.” Amaya said, firmly. “For killing all those people, especially since they had no hope of ever defending themselves.”

“It’s a bit easy, if you ask me. I think it’s probably more horrific to witness the kiss, seeing as once it’s happened, you can’t even remember it. Or anything that happened to you ever. At least in Azkaban, you have to remember what you did forever.”

“I think that’s true.” Cara nodded as they were greeted by the warmth and light of the Great Hall, and the smell of roasted chicken and vegetables. “It’s pointless to punish someone by making them forget. Because it’s hardly a punishment.” She turned to Jae Chan as they sat down. “What do they do with criminals in Korea?”

He looked up from serving everyone potatoes. “You go in front of a council. Most of the time, you just go to prison. But we don’t have Dementors there. It is, I think, more like muggle prison. You are just locked up, for however long the council decides. Although, some particularly bad people have been executed, I think.”

“ _ Executed _ ?” Amaya asked, her hand stopping in mid air as she was helping herself to vegetarian stuffing. “Like, actually  _ killed _ ?”

He nodded. “I think that someone like Sirius Black would have been executed. If the crime is very bad, it is, in the council’s eyes, the right thing to do. Some councils do not execute criminals, but some more ruthless regimes use the death penalty more often.”

“You have multiple?” Haneul asked. Her mother had never been into great detail about her life before she came to England, and had certainly not reached the topic of the political or justice system.

“It changes. Each community nominates a new member every five years. After your dark wizard nearly took over your country, for instance, many people in other parts of the world became worried, so council members were nominated who were more tough about crime. But recently, it has become a little more lenient, as we have not suffered any threats to our community.”

“Don’t you have a leader? Like a Minister for Magic?” Cara asked.

“Yes. They are chosen by the council. But the council typically has more power, as they have to agree to what the Minister wants. Usually, the council just chooses someone who will propose the laws they like, so they still keep most of the law-making and deciding power.”

“So the same council makes laws and enforces it?” Amaya pondered, as she swallowed a mouthful. 

“Oh, no.” Jae Chan shook his head. “But they choose the people who form the law councils. So they might as well, it’s just that they don’t have the time.”

“But you think they would have killed Sirius Black?” Haneul asked him.

“Most definitely. He killed what, twelve people? I expect many members of the public would even have called for his execution.”

Did Sirius Black deserve to die? It was an even more scary prospect than having the dementor’s kiss, that the government could legally kill a person if they did something bad enough. It was an awful weight to bear, Haneul thought, because what if something was done wrongly? Once a person was dead, they could not be exonerated. But it was the same as the dementor’s kiss - you could not wipe the criminal record of a person who had no person left in them.

As Halloween approached, Hogwarts truly felt like normal again. The adjusting had taken a little longer this year, with the arrival of Jae Chan and the revelations of early September, but once the final week of October began, Haneul no longer felt anything strange about the halls or the classrooms or the grounds. Due to his impassive nature, it was totally impossible to tell how Snape felt about her steadily improving Occlumency skills, as he was not a man of many words, particularly not of overflowing compliments. But he had not said much bad, other than ‘advice’ on how to improve, and so from what she had concluded about his personality, this must mean she was doing fairly well. Haneul felt, strangely, each time she saw him privately, that she was beginning to unpick Snape as a person a little more. Perhaps he was less closed off around her to repay the fact that he would break into her mind so often, or perhaps he unconsciously trusted her a little more, as Haneul had trusted him. Haneul was not having a problem with blocking Snape’s attempts to break in at first, but found that after a time, and a certain pressure, she would nearly always crack. 

Such a thing was again happening on the last Tuesday of October. Haneul had felt the pressure coming, and had been doing her best to block out what felt like a wispy intruder inside her head, although growing steadily more light headed. She could still see Snape, gripping his wand and focussing his eyes right on hers, as if he was trying to open them. But he seemed to be having some trouble, his eyebrows pushed together in concentration. 

Then the image in front of Haneul’s eyes swam before her and others pushed their way into her mind’s eye. Things from just days earlier, a joke Cara had told in Transfiguration, an essay she had been writing for Herbology just hours before. Then Haneul opened her eyes and the office came back into view, and the small fragments of thought brought forward by Snape’s legilimency receded back into the depths of her mind, slipping beyond reach.

“Interesting.” Snape observed, lowering his wand.

“What is?” Haneul was breathing a little heavier than usual, and she pushed her hair out of her eyes as she straightened up, having been clutching the corner of Snape’s desk.

“There is no doubt that I was able to break in. However, it was a little harder, and I did not manage to get very deep. Whether intentional or not, there is a certain blockage guarding certain things. Perhaps I would have broken it, only you managed to throw me out first.”

Haneul considered this. “I don’t know that that’s  _ interesting _ , it’s just the way occlumency is meant to work. It isn’t particularly anomalous to be able to do that, is it?”

“Not in theory, but I suppose… I did not expect you to layer your mind like that so… unconsciously. It is surprisingly  _ advanced _ , considering that you still break under sustained pressure.”

“Perhaps you're putting too much pressure on, then.” She quipped. She felt no qualms about arguing with him or questioning him here. “If someone is trying to get inside my thoughts, it’d be rare for them to be so, well, obvious about it. Most people would be sneaky, and do it in a more covert way, maybe without even an incantation.”

“That is correct. But in not all cases would the attacker attempt to be covert. The Dark Lord, for instance, uses legilimency specifically to torture and weaken victims. Thus, you  _ must _ be prepared for that.”

“Am I likely to be interrogated by the Dark Lord, then?”

Snape looked very uncomfortable for a moment. “Not necessarily. But one can never protect themself too much. You can never truly know how far into your mind a person is able to travel. So it is best to make sure the defences you have are flawless.”

“But… You think You-know-who will come back, do you? Because Sirius Black broke out of Azkaban.”

Snape glanced around his office, like he was searching for someone else to answer the question. 

“I do not know if Black is truly allegiant to the Dark Lord. I never knew of him as being so during the time I spent amongst the death eaters, but we never knew everyone who was involved, and if Black was a spy… He may have been hidden from all but those closest to the Dark Lord. However. It is undeniable that the Dark Lord is in some way, alive, and attempting to return. He has tried twice in the last two years, and if Black is going to aid him, it could happen. And if he does return, there is no doubt that his former death eaters will rejoin him and take up their old mission.”

“Will you?”

“In a sense. Not in the way of any of the others, but in a sense… Yes. Perhaps I shall tell you how, one day.” 

It was all to do with that memory, those events between the two Haneul had seen weeks before. She could just tell, even if he didn’t tell her, that the information stored between those two pillars was more important than anything. Because he hid his true feelings so effectively, it was truly hard to tell whether Snape was serious about one day showing her these things. Memory as it was was so deeply personal, but would he actually go further to show her what was probably his best-kept secret? And still, even if he did, why was this necessary? Trust? She was sure he already knew that Haneul trusted his first memories, was there another part of himself that he thought she did not trust?

This always happened, she realised, after she spoke to Snape. Perhaps it was his complexity, or the fact that he was otherwise unknown, but Haneul found that she had a lot to think about after meeting with him. Specifically this time about Sirius Black. If Snape had really been a death eater - which she took to mean a follower of You-know-who - and had never known Black to be one too, then was he actually guilty? But of course he was, Dumbledore seemed to be sure of it, according to her mother, and there had been witnesses too. Haneul came to the conclusion that probably, Sirius Black had been such a secret and valuable spy that the side he was really on was not allowed to know, for fear of being exposed. Only Voldemort would have known.

Jae Chan was alone in the common room when Haneul reached it. He looked up, and raised a hand as Haneul sat down, and like always, handed her her bag which he usually looked after when she had ‘places to be’. Haneul was surprised that he was not doing homework, but was instead writing a long letter in neat hangul. He did not roll it up, so it was seemingly not secret.

“Is Jae Hyeon your brother?” She asked him, glancing at the name at the top.

A seemingly unconscious smile flitted across Jae Chan’s face. “Yes. He likes me to send him letters, because he can read now.”

"How old is he?”

“He’s five. So he’s quite a bit younger than me, but my mother says that makes him like me even more. I think he’ll like to hear how I go to school in a castle.”

“Who’ll like to hear about you going to school in a castle?” Cara and Amaya had appeared, picking their way across the blue carpet to the table Haneul and Jae Chan had been sitting at.

“My brother.” Jae Chan answered, hastily moving a rolled up essay out of the way as Amaya dumped her bag onto the table and sank into a chair. 

“Ah, imagine being the oldest sibling…” Cara looked wistfully out of the window. “Sounds nice.”

“I didn’t know you had siblings.” Jae Chan rested his chin on the heel of his hand. “How many?”

“Just one. An older brother. He left last year, but he still lives at home and he’s still annoying.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Amaya reasoned, “He’s not  _ that _ bad.”

“You only think that because he’s not your brother.” Cara shot back. “He’s awful. I wish I had a younger sibling instead, then I could boss them around.”

“I don’t boss Jae Hyeon around.” Jae Chan said, looking a little confused.

“Well obviously  _ you _ don’t.” Amaya waved her hand dismissively. “You’re far too nice to do that.”

“And if he’s only five,” Haneul added, “he would probably do whatever you said anyway, without you needing to be bossy.”

“Five?” Cara echoed, looking surprised.

“Nearly six.” Jae Chan offered.

“That’s a big age gap.” Amaya stated.

“Perhaps I was such a devilish child that my parents couldn’t deal with another until I was old enough to behave myself.” Jae Chan smirked.

“I don’t believe that for a second.” Amaya said, firmly. “I can imagine that Cara is the reason her parents didn’t have more children, but you’re just too.. Mild-mannered.”

“Maybe one day, I’ll tell you the very, extremely strange and wonderful reason.” Jae Chan wiggled his eyebrows and grinned, but Haneul was sure that this was a case of him hiding something, and that he did have some secrets, and this was one of them.


	19. Dog's Shadow

The first Hogsmeade visit of the year was fixed for the last Saturday in October. Haneul was not sure if she wanted to go - she had been able to go for two years already, and unfortunately, despite the interesting thought material it usually provided, Occlumency took up precious homework time. But she was prepared to go, because she knew Jae Chan would have not been yet, and could not rely on Cara and Amaya to bring him back in one piece. It would probably also be the last visit before the weather became freezing.

But Jae Chan, it transpired, did not want to go. He said he had too much homework to do, which Haneul was not sure was entirely true, seeing as Jae Chan did not spend a few hours a week learning to close his mind. However, because this suited her, she agreed to stay behind with him while Cara and Amaya were going off to Hogsmeade, having worked into Friday night to finish a particularly horrible piece of potions homework. The common room was far emptier than usual, owing to the fact that nearly everyone who was allowed would go to Hogsmeade on the first weekend. It was quite peaceful, because most of the first and second years who still had to stay in the castle at the weekends were too scared of the glares of the few older students who remained behind for studying purposes to make their usual amount of noise. 

It was strangely warm that day, for the end of October. Not necessarily hot, but the sun streamed in through the windows of Ravenclaw Tower, and the students going off to Hogsmeade had not needed to wrap up as warmly as expected. Only the day previously, many students had been wearing their cloaks as they sprinted through corridors between lessons, trying not to get frostbitten. The sky had promised rain, but on that morning it seemed much clearer than before, and the grounds remained dry too. It was a shame that the day could not be enjoyed in Hogsmeade, strolling through the streets or sitting in the Three Broomsticks with a tankard of butterbeer. Writing about antidotes was exceedingly boring in comparison, but Snape had, quite forcefully, in Haneul’s opinion, told them he would mark this essay particularly harshly because venom antidotes were useful in the wider world. Privately, Haneul thought this was only true if you were a healer or perhaps a hero.

Just after Cara and Amaya had arrived back from Hogsmeade, in extremely good spirits, the weather took the day-before promised turn for the worst, and the four of them ate lunch under a grey and stormy ceiling in the Great Hall. It was already bearing signs of the Halloween feast, which was to happen that evening. This interested Jae Chan very much, as his previous school had not had a feast on Halloween, and it had not been as much of an event in his school life. 

“It’s always great. All Hogwarts feasts are. Only, you missed the start-of-term one, so you haven’t experienced one yet.” Haneul explained. “I think that Halloween is the best one, even if odd things tend to happen sometimes.”

Jae Chan predictably raised an eyebrow.

“We told you about it!” Cara exclaimed. “The troll in third year, and the first attack last year. They both happened on Halloween.”

“What is going to happen this year, then?” He asked cautiously.

“Nothing, nothing. Don’t worry yourself about it.” Amaya said, soothingly. “We’ve all been here four years, and something’s only happened twice. You don’t need to get worked up about it, Cara just wants to scare you. She feels threatened you know, because she isn’t the tallest anymore.” Amaya placed a falsely sympathetic hand on Cara’s upper arm. Haneul snorted, and Jae Chan looked far more relaxed as he chuckled at Cara jabbing Amaya.

They spent the afternoon intermittently answering questions about goblin rebellions and complaining about the amount of work they had to do. The rain hammered on the high windows, and everyone was huddled by the fires in the common room. Perhaps she was imagining it, but Haneul could have sworn she saw the shadows of the dementors even closer to the castle than usual. It was probably just a trick of the light. 

It was certainly hard to think about dementors descending over the school when the time came for the feast. The castle itself was warmly lit, the Ravenclaw common room always seemed to be cooler than the rest of the castle owing to the large windows and blue decor, and fires were dancing merrily in the torches along all the corridors. As the Ravenclaws moved down towards the centre of the castle, they were joined by the Gryffindors, coming from their tower at the opposite end, sending the still corridors into life. Once the blue and red had descended the marble staircase to the entrance hall, they were joined by the Hufflepuffs and Slytherins, who swarmed alongside them into the Great Hall.

Like previous years, it had been decorated lavishly, with live bats, ornately carved, candlelit pumpkins and floating orange streamers that swirled across the now dark ceiling, shooting warmth through the stormy grey. It was very good, probably the best Halloween feast Haneul had been to. Jae Chan agreed that it was an extremely enjoyable occasion, although he didn’t seem completely fond of the bats. The feast was followed by entertainment from the ghosts, which concluded the Gryffindor resident ghost reenacting his own failed beheading. Although the rain continued to pound down outside the castle, inside, everyone felt warm, full and happy.

It had barely been ten minutes since the least person had returned from the feast, so when the Ravenclaws heard the eagle door knocker speaking, and the door opening, none of them were particularly worried, because for all they knew, it was just another straggler who had been slowly climbing the tower. But instead of a student, it was Professor Flitwick, who had not stepped foot in the common room since the previous summer, to tell them about the resolution of the attacks by Slytherin’s monster. He was looking about as grave as he had then too, and despite being smaller than all of them, every Ravenclaw student fell silent. 

“I am afraid you cannot stay here tonight. There has been a breach of security in Gryffindor tower, and it is believed to be the work of Sirius Black. You must all come to the Great Hall again.”

Murmurs began to spread through the crowd, some frantic, others skeptical, and then some annoyed. They had just traipsed all the way up the stairs, someone was murmuring, and what was the actual likelihood of Sirius Black having broken in?

Because they had to go all the way back downstairs, the Ravenclaws were the last to reach the hall. All the other students were there already, looking confused, except for the Gryffindors, who looked frightened. Clearly Flitwick had been correct about the breach of security, and that probably meant he had been right about Black too. Professor Dumbledore was also there, looking quite grave, as well as all the other teachers. Professor Sprout was chivvying everyone into empty spaces, McGonagall and Flitwick were closing the doors to the Great Hall, and the other teachers were dotted around the edges, with serious and hardened expressions on their faces. Strangely, Lupin looked quite relaxed, whilst Snape was unconsciously playing with his fingers and stealing glances at Lupin, in a sort of suspicious and satisfied way. 

“The teachers and I need to conduct a thorough search of the castle. I’m afraid that for your own safety, you will all have to spend the night here.” Dumbledore said, after signalling for quiet. Even not standing at a lectern, he looked incredibly impressive and powerful. “I want the prefects to stand guard over the Entrance Hall and I am leaving the Head Boy and Girl in charge.” He turned to the Head Boy and Girl, who were standing nearest him. “ANy disturbances should be reported to me immediately. Send word with one of the ghosts.”

He then waved his wand, and the house tables zoomed to the edges of the room, leaving the floor quite empty. Then, with another flick, several hundred purple sleeping bags appeared. The whole room remained silent as the teachers all filed out, but as soon as Dumbledore left, chatter broke out and movement started. 

“What do you think happened?” Amaya asked as she, Haneul, Cara and Jae Chan grabbed sleeping bags and dragged them to a corner. 

“I heard some Gryffindors saying he tried to break into the tower.” Jae Chan offered as they sat down on top of their sleeping bags.

“Why would he do that? What’s in Gryffindor Tower that he could want so badly? He can’t be wanting to visit his old common room, can he? My dad said everyone who joined the dark side was a Slytherin.” Cara said this all very quickly, sounding quite anxious.

“Harry Potter is in Gryffindor Tower, isn’t he?” Haneul mused. 

“Sirius Black wants to kill Potter?” Amaya looked at Haneul in a disappointed sort of way. “Usually, you know what you’re talking about, but that’s definitely not right.”

“But why not? Potter defeated You-know-who, maybe it’s a revenge thing.” Haneul pointed out. 

“I don’t know… It seems kind of, well, random.” Amaya pursed her lips. “It’s not like killing Potter would bring You-know-who back, would it?”

“He’s mad… We can’t even be sure about what he would, or wouldn’t do.”

“Everyone into their sleeping bags! Come on now, no more talking! Lights out in ten minutes!” The Head Boy was still standing and shouted these words, though he seemed to be enjoying the power he was getting. 

There was a shuffle of movement as everyone climbed into their sleeping bags and shifted around to get into a comfortable position, but conversation still floated through the crowds. More than why he had come, most people were wondering how Black had managed to get into the castle in the first place. Even without the dementors, it was protected extremely well, with all sorts of enchantments to keep out unwanted visitors. And these must have been strengthened before the term started, what with a murderer on the loose. 

The whole thing became much more real and frightening when the lights went out. The ghosts continued to float around the hall, like silvery, wispy lanterns gliding above them, but otherwise it was quite dark, and the windows black too. Perhaps it was the collective panic or the fact that they were all somewhere different, but Haneul thought they would have probably felt far safer in their dormitories than in the dark, high ceilinged hall that almost felt like being outside because of the bewitched ceiling. Nobody slept much at first, instead continuing whispered conversations in small bursts before the Head Boy heard and came over to tell them off, hissing at them to be quiet, because other people were trying to sleep. It was probably only first or second years who were actually having any success at this, because many of the older students felt that sleeping when a murderer was raging about the castle was almost suicidal, but at least very stupid. On top of that, teachers came to check the hall every hour, jerking the drowsy from near-sleep whenever they got too complacent.

Haneul fell asleep last from her friends, at what must have been one or two o’clock in the morning, exhaustion taking over fear. She thought she might have been dreaming in the early morning, because the next day she remembered snatches of conversations about staff appointments and helping Black and dementors, though it was in such a hazy and disjointed way that she could not be sure it was real when the cool sunlight woke the entire student body the next morning as it streamed in through the high windows. Professor McGonagall explained to them all that the entire castle had been searched, but there had been nothing found and the castle deemed safe by the Headmaster. They were all allowed to return to their common rooms, and being allowed out of the Great Hall opened the floodgate of gossip too. Before long, everyone knew what had happened. The Gryffindors had returned to their tower after the Halloween feast, only to find the portrait that guarded the entrance to their common room had been slashed, and its subject missing. The school poltergeist, Peeves, had relayed to Dumbledore how it had been Sirius Black who had been trying to gain entry to Gryffindor tower before attacking the portrait. From what could be gleaned from overhearing disgruntled Gryffindors in lessons during the days that followed, a replacement portrait had been put in place, but he was far inferior to the original. 

If the fear and paranoia over Sirius Black had dulled slightly before Halloween, it had ballooned spectacularly since then. All the school could talk of was  _ how _ he had made it in, seeming to forget the more pressing question on Haneul, Cara, Amaya and Jae Chan’s minds - the why. It did certainly matter that Black had a way to get in that nobody knew, but it also felt more pressing to figure out why, to decide if they were in real danger or not. Amaya wasn’t at all sure, and Cara still thought it was to target Dumbledore. Jae Chan was like Amaya, but Haneul thought that it must have something to do with Harry Potter. She didn't know him at all - he was in a different house and year to her - but still felt that something about him, something discerned from passing him in corridors, seemed to say that he was more alert and on the lookout than any of the other students. It was rumoured that he had been banned from going into Hogsmeade, and Haneul thought people seemed to stick closer to him than usual these days.

The four of them were once again debating this outside Defence Against the Dark Arts, about a week later. The class was usually chatty while lining up for this lesson, because Professor Lupin never minded, and that day was no exception. Still very much interested in Sirius Black, nobody was silent, and everyone was huddled with their friends discussing their latest theories as they waited for Professor Lupin to let them into the classroom. Cara was just explaining why Gryffindor Tower may have been Black’s starting point to getting to Dumbledore when, from the staircase at the end of the corridor, a bat-like figure rose, one never seen in these parts of the castle. 

Why Snape was so far away from his potions dungeons was at first, a mystery, as he silently swept up the corridor towards them, glaring through his curtains of black hair but unable to hide the triumph on his pale face. But as he opened the door to the classroom and curtly ordered them in, it was clear that for whatever reason, he was going to be taking the lesson, not Lupin as usual. 

The class took their seats in a stony silence. They were all perfectly used to Snape in potions, but it seemed that they felt - and Haneul agreed - that the obvious satisfaction etched on his features was not going to make him any nicer, but perhaps even more of a force to be reckoned with than usual. Snape waited, his face as impassive as usual, for them to sit down and take out their books before saying a single word to them, as if he was savouring being inside this classroom, the one of the subject he  _ really _ wanted to teach. 

“As I have been left no instruction on what this class has studied thus far,” Snape began, his lips twitching at the idea of Lupin being an incompetent teacher, “we shall study something that is  _ commonly _ present in O.W.L papers.” 

Amaya raised her hand, and Snape gave her a questioning look.

“Sir, where’s Professor Lupin?” She asked, looking a little frightened. 

“He is too ill to teach today.” Snape replied shortly. “Open your books at page five hundred and two.”

“The imperius curse?” Cara whispered, being the first to open her book to the correct page. “An unforgivable-”

“The imperius curse is commonly found on O.W.L papers as you are expected to know about it, even if previous teachers have neglected to tell you. It is the only unforgivable curse that can really be defended thus you will be expected to have some basic knowledge of that.”

“But, it’s an unforgivable curse!” Keira’s voice seemed to shake, even if she did not want it to. 

Snape looked at Keira coldly. “That is hardly relevant to the defence of it. Unforgivable or not, it has been the favourite of Dark Wizards for years.” He paused to survey the room. “Enfield, you should be able to tell me why.”

“Well…” Violet looked terrified. “It, it controls the victim, and so…” She trailed off, not wanting to be finished. 

“So, should a Dark Wizard wish to create an army, it’s perfect.” Amaya finished. 

“Indeed.” Snape said, contemptuous at being interrupted. “And should a wizard be too cowardly to admit to his being loyal to the losing side, a tool of pretence to assuage guilt from oneself under scrutiny from the Ministry of Magic.”

A boy from Jae Chan’s dormitory raised his hand. “Is there no way to tell if someone’s pretending to be under the imperius curse?”

“In theory, there are several. In practice, there are none. The Ministry of Magic does not use Veritaserum or Legilimency on every criminal brought before them. Such methods are usually accurate, though not always, therefore the ministry prefers to use what, in their minds, are more concrete ways of finding the truth.” Instantly, a number of questioning looks flashed onto faces throughout the classroom, and Haneul herself wondered why the Ministry dodged such seemingly foolproof methods, but Snape preempted them all. “This is none of your concern. This is not a magical law class. You will make notes on the Imperius Curse.”

The Imperius Curse was boring to read theory on, though interesting when it came to examples and resistance. Perhaps it was just the author’s choices of gruesome and scary instances of the Imperius Curse’s uses as examples, but Haneul thought this spell was probably the worst she had ever heard of. The only condolence, which Jae Chan pointed out, was that the spell could be resisted with enough strength. He had to do this in a whisper, because Snape seemed to be particularly sensitive to noise that day and hissed at anyone who did more than speak in a low voice to their neighbour. 

Just before the bell rang, and as the class was beginning to stop working, Snape looked up from his marking and glared at them all. 

“I want a foot and a half on the Imperius Curse and resistance to it, from all of you. To be handed in on Friday.”

Instantly, the class broke out into a disgruntled buzz, exchanging disgusted looks with each other and muttering derogatory things under their breaths. Haneul glanced at Cara, who looked very annoyed, and Haneul mirrored her look. Snape could set them as much Potions homework as he liked, but it was ludicrous to set them so much work when he had only been covering. How he expected her to improve at Occlumency with all of this to do, she did not know, but only hoped he would not have high expectations for that. At this rate, there would be no time to practice. 

“Quiet.” Snape called lazily over the hubbub. “You will do the essay for Friday, or it will be detention. Regardless of how negligent Professor Lupin is,  _ I _ am not prepared to let you slack off.”

Amaya opened her mouth, presumably to argue about Lupin’s alleged incompetence, but Haneul kicked her and Cara elbowed her, so she shut her mouth again. From the positively murderous look that Snape shot their general area, this had been a good idea too, because he seemed ready to deal out more than just detention, but she was still scowling as they left the classroom for History of Magic. 

“Why can’t Sirius Black be after  _ him _ instead?” She asked, dramatically. 

“Too easy.” Cara rolled her eyes. “We’d never get that lucky.”

“You don’t want him dead, do you? Not really?” Jae Chan asked, his soft voice still managing to cut through the noise in the hallways. 

“Not  _ really _ .” Amaya reassured him. “He just gives too much work.”

“It’s part of being a Ravenclaw, or even not a Slytherin, that you’ve got to hate Snape.” Haneul told Jae Chan, seriously, consciously closing her mind even though there was nobody to look inside it. 

Jae Chan nodded. “Yes, I think that seems obvious.” A small smile played on his lips. “Although, I think he would be hard to like even without that rule. He’s not an altogether likable person.”

“Oh, cheer up, you lot.” A grin spread onto Cara’s face. “It’s the quidditch match tomorrow. That’ll be fun, so stop moping about an essay.”

Quidditch matches always cause the castle to come alive again, even when paranoia about a crazed criminal had been weighing considerably on the mood. Although the weather had only become worse since Halloween, people had been talking of the match excitedly all week. It was to be Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff, as Slytherin had pulled out due to an injury last minute, which had caused a lot of frenzy as the Gryffindor team had needed to change all the tactics they’d planned. Although Haneul herself didn’t care much for quidditch, she always joined her friends in watching the matches when they happened, and avidly supported the Ravenclaw team as Cara was a chaser, so she joined the rest of the school as they sprinted across the grounds with umbrellas and thick cloaks to the quidditch pitch on Saturday morning, trying to dodge the heavy rain. Their efforts to avoid it were futile, as by the time the stands were reached, Haneul along with most others around her were tipping water out of their shoes and wringing out their cloaks. 

By the time the match started, the rain was so heavy that it was barely possible to see the players, who only looked like faint smudges of red and yellow against the steadily darkening sky. Whilst Haneul could faintly hear the commentary of the match, it was hard to discern exactly what was being said, and only very rarely was the crowd able to tell what the score was. It seemed like Lee Jordan, the commentator, was having trouble even telling what was happening, as he wasn’t cracking the usual amount of jokes. 

But then every sound disappeared, as if sucked from the world, or as if a pair of large hands had clapped over the ears of every person standing in that stadium. Yet the rest of the world went on, the rain lashed without noise and the wind thrashed with no howl. As if overcompensating for the lack of sound, the chill swelled, as did the strange, black mass above the stands. But it was not a mass, Haneul realised, as dread swam through her and hope vanished. It was dementors, about a hundred of them, swarming the sitting ducks that were the spectators, all of whom were silent, watching but unable to do anything as they were frozen in their collective yet individual despair. 

And then something else disturbed the rippling scene, a flash of colour, a streak of scarlet falling amongst the black. A player. Professor Dumbledore pointed his wand at the figure, and it seemed to slow, falling through the air like something much lighter until it landed on the grass. Then he was pointing his wand at the dementors, and it was incredible. 

Light permeated from his every crease and line, and birds, great, silver birds were flowering from the tip of his wand. The very presence of such light and hope was enough to make the dementors shrivel away, cringing from the strange warmth of this cool light. The rain could be heard again, and suddenly it was comforting to Haneul to hear the droplets and feel them on her head. The wind sung a song of hope as every last dementor was chased by the magnificent patronus birds that soared before rejoining their master and vanishing, their services no longer required.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have a summary today, because I haven't had time to write one, so... maybe next week? This time, I'll await the analysis that's completely the readers'.


	20. Reimmersion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually *do* have a doc this week - you can find it at the end of the next chapter! I had a lot of fun with these chapters, so I hope you'll enjoy them both.

For whatever idiotic reason, the match did not simply end after the dementors swarmed the pitch and the Gryffindor player, who ended up being Harry Potter, was taken to the hospital wing. Granted, it was not a very slow win, because the Hufflepuff seeker, Cedric Diggory, had caught the snitch during the commotion, without knowing what had really happened to his opponent, but it was clear that the match would have continued otherwise. Haneul added this to her list of reasons why she didn’t like Quidditch, although Cara was adamant that this made Quidditch an excellent and exciting sport. Amaya just rolled her eyes as Cara began her monologue, while Jae Chan looked disbelievingly at her and murmured something about the English being out of their minds. Haneul thought she was more inclined to agree with Amaya, as she was sure that rather than the English being out of their minds, it was just Cara. After all, she and Amaya  _ were _ English, even if their extended families had not been born in Britain, and they certainly didn’t like the idea of playing a game in the sky when it was freezing cold and raining. 

“You’ve got to admit, that stuff Dumbledore did was pretty cool.” Cara said happily, as they were greeted by the toasty Entrance Hall. 

“You can tell why he’s called the greatest wizard of our time.” Haneul agreed. “All those patronuses. I couldn’t have done any magic in that situation.”

“But what was that animal, I wonder?” Jae Chan was testing to see if his fingers had unfrozen yet.

“Some sort of bird, maybe a swan, or a peacock?” Amaya suggested, shivering still. “I’d love to have a corporeal patronus. It’d look so  _ cool _ .”

“How do you even get one?” Haneul asked, trying to wring out her hair, which was significantly heavy with water.

“I read that you have to be really powerful, and be using a really happy memory. Something that really fills you up/” Cara replied seriously, her blue-green eyes full of that delighted curiosity that she often seemed to feel.

“Is it not more about hope, than happiness?” Jae Chan asked, turning his head to her. “One can be happy in a very bad way. I thought it was about pure hope. Even if you are not currently happy and joyous, if you have hope, you are protected.” He said this all very casually, and continued to mount the stairs like he had simply commented about the weather. When he realised that Haneul, Amaya and Cara had all stopped, he turned and raised an eyebrow. 

“How do you just  _ know _ that?” Amaya asked, looking at him in awe. 

“I don’t. It was just a guess.” He shrugged and smiled. “If you stay standing there, you’ll probably get hypothermia.”

Amaya laughed, and Haneul found herself joining in, though still pondering Jae Chan’s words in her mind. Hope. Something so many just viewed as futile, could be very powerful. Did Jae Chan have a lot of that? Was that why he always seemed content with everything, why nothing seemed to distress him too much? Haneul could sense without him telling her that his life wasn’t always as peachy as he would describe it, but yet he always seemed to want to lift the moods of the others, and always seemed to see the best of everything. 

Or maybe, Haneul thought to herself, she simply had a worse outlook on everything. She didn’t think she was particularly pessimistic, but she thought she was more realistic. Perhaps it was because she had more unique knowledge of Sirius Black and Voldemort and the dark side that she was inclined to see things in a more foreboding way, although she couldn’t call this a bad thing. The Dementors’ detour onto the Quidditch pitch had once again brought the reality of Sirius Black back to the forefront of Haneul’s mind, so much that during her previous ‘lesson’ with Snape, she had been unable to hide those thoughts beneath the layer that had formed to shield everything that people were not allowed to know. Not the type of person to be comforting, he had simply told her to close her mind more effectively, and that fear controlled too many people.

“Fear is weak.” Snape did not look at her as he said this. “You cannot hope to succeed if you continue to fear that which is not a threat.”

“I  _ know  _ that. I’m not  _ trying _ to worry about things. The entire castle is worried. Are you not, at all?”

“Less than you.” He stated, blankly.

“I’m not talking about how much Occlumency you’re employing.” Haneul retorted, a little dismissively. “Are you not concerned about anything?”

The impassive expression seemed to fade from his sallow face into something a little uncertain, a little apprehensive, as if he wanted to say something but thought better of it.

“I am not concerned in the way you are. You should not feel that your life is in any sort of danger.”

Haneul raised an eyebrow. Snape wasn’t a liar, and didn’t spare feelings, but his statements did not match nearly all of the evidence. 

“Are you telling me not to be worried about a mass-murderer? Perhaps you’re braver than I am, but I don’t think I’m stupid for worrying. It hardly matters who he’s trying to kill. Even if it isn’t me, evidence shows that anyone caught in the crossfire isn’t going to be spared.”

Either he was taken aback by stupidity, or her being right, because Snape did not reply to her straight away, but examined a stack of essays on his desk with seemingly great interest.

“You are worried about being caught in a crossfire of one Dark wizard, but not another? Sirius Black will most likely never cross your path, yet you worry. However, the Dark Lord-”

“Would have to know I exist and how I exist in order to have any interest in what’s inside my mind.” She finished.

“Perhaps.” 

“And that relies on me more than anyone else. You wouldn’t dance around telling him,  _ if _ he returned to power, my mother wouldn’t, and nor would I.”

“It is irrelevant.” 

“It’s about what I haven’t seen. It’s about whatever you want protected from people. I know that.”

He finally met her eyes, and they were neither impassive nor piercing, but almost defeated, momentarily tired. 

“Yes.”

Haneul thought that Snape was too paranoid about the Dark Lord’s allegedly imminent return. She could accept that Snape was probably right about the fact that he would, at some point return, but she still thought he was too on edge about when that time came. The odds of Haneul, as a student, ever facing Voldemort were quite low, as far as she could imagine. She realised that clearly he had secrets, because he had defected from the Death Eaters, and that such information would lead to him being killed, was that it? Once again, Haneul wanted to ask her mother, because she just had some innate feeling that Minjeong, her only parental figure, would know something, anything to make this more concrete. That was what felt odd to Haneul, she concluded as she walked without seeing through the castle’s corridors. Nothing was clear right now. Even before returning that diary, Haneul thought she had had fewer questions. Less than what she knew, it was what she didn’t know that bothered Haneul. Because she couldn’t work it out, it wasn’t like a homework question where you may not know at first, but you could find it in a book after some sifting. This time, the book was dangling out of reach, just beyond a lamp that cast light onto everything else. 

Haneul was so deep in her thoughts that she didn’t notice there was anyone in front of her until she bumped into them, and her eyes travelled from inside her head onto Amaya’s face.

“Sorry, sorry...” Haneul again felt unaware of what she was saying. 

Amaya was grinning. “You’re worse than Cara.” She put her arm around Haneul. “I’m glad I ran into you. Your services are required.”

Haneul raised an eyebrow and shook the veil of curiosity from her mind. “What services?”

“The Imperius Curse essay, for that bat.” Amaya said, rolling her eyes as usual.

“Bat?” Haneul snorted.

“Our newly affectionate name for our dear Professor.” Amaya explained. “We think, that is to say, Jae Chan and I think, that it’s pretty accurate.”

Haneul considered this for a moment, then nodded. “I think so. The cloak doesn’t help.” She grinned. 

“That’s what I’m saying!” Amaya agreed, steering Haneul into the library. “Anyway, Jae Chan said you finished the essay already, and neither of us can figure out how to write enough.” She pointed to a table, messy with books and pieces of parchment, complete with a tired-looking Jae Chan, who was at that moment, staring blankly at a book and pushing his hands through his hair. Haneul could have been an angel, he looked so pleased to see her.

“We can’t do this.” He looked up at her as she approached the table. “I think you are a superhuman. We’ve been through so many books.”

Haneul sat down, and pulled Amaya’s essay towards her and scanned it. “Did you look in  _ Confronting the Faceless _ ?” She asked the two of them.

“What’s that?” Amaya asked, whipping around so fast that her long, wavy black hair hit Jae Chan in the face. 

“It’s the N.E.W.T textbook, I think. I found it at the back of the shelves. I thought I put it back.” 

Jae Chan pulled himself out of his seat and bent down to a large stack of books beside the table. When he resurfaced, he was holding a battered textbook. 

“As it turns out, we are just unobservant.” He smiled lopsidedly. 

“Where’s Cara, by the way?” Haneul asked, flicking through the book to find the pages she had used. 

“Quidditch practice. She’s crazy. I would have gone out with her to watch, but I don’t wanna get hypothermia, or leave Moony alone.” Amaya raised an eyebrow as Jae Chan winced. “What’s wrong?”

“Moon is my father’s name. I have to use it, so it’s my last name but…I don’t like it.”

Amaya nodded understandingly. “Is your father not very nice?”

“I just don’t like him very much.” Jae Chan shrugged, his expression not slipping from its usually relaxed state. 

“What can we call you then? Or do you not do nicknames?”

“My brother,” he began, a small smile returning to his lips again, “started calling me Chan when he learned to talk, so my mother calls me that too. Because he’s called Jae Hyeon, so he says he’ll only use the part of my name that’s mine.”

“That’s cute.” Haneul was taken aback at how she had managed to say something so trivial and childish when her mind was still so full of other things.

Jae Chan blushed. “So you can call me Jae Chan, or just Chan.” He shrugged and dipped his quill in ink. “Either is good for me.”

The next morning, the sun rose only half to its potential, and frost had settled on the lawns, turning them a pale white that crunched underfoot. Winter had already arrived before then, but it had tightened its icy clutches that November morning. Ever bright, the Ravenclaws could see the whole of the grounds encrusted with ice as they woke in their dormitories and came through the common room, heading to the Great Hall. As per usual, Jae Chan was already in the common room when Haneul, Amaya and Cara got there, because Amaya was always specifically hard to get out of bed, still grumbling about the earliness of the hour as they left for breakfast. 

To Haneul’s surprise, Cara grabbed her wrist as she tried to pull ahead to tease Amaya, who was lamenting to Jae Chan about how lucky he was that he could wake up early in the mornings and still seem somewhat human.

Haneul looked first at Cara’s hand on her wrist, then into her inquisitive blue eyes, a questioning expression on her face. 

“Let those two go on.” Cara waved a hand in the direction of Jae Chan and Amaya, who were steadily descending the stairs. “I need to talk to you.”

Haneul frowned in confusion, not sure if she was actually confused, or whether she was trying to convince herself that she was by avoiding focus on why Cara wanted a word. 

After letting Jae Chan and Amaya pull ahead a good amount, Cara pulled Haneul into a disused classroom just off the corridor that led away from Ravenclaw tower towards the main school. After shutting the door, she turned to face Haneul, her arms folded, a determined expression on her face. She could be quite intimidating, Haneul thought, perhaps because she was taller than her.

“What’s up with you?” Cara asked, verging on accusatory. 

“Up with me?” Haneul echoed. 

“You’re distant. I hardly see you some days. You’re not so talkative. What happened? I know something happened in the first week, because you were completely normal, then you suddenly started being all… weird.” Her expression softened, her blue eyes becoming slightly less icy. “Is something wrong?”

Haneul shook her head and absent-mindedly dragged her hand through her hair. “Nothing’s happened, I’m fine.” She flashed a not altogether truthful smile onto her face. 

Cara narrowed her eyes. “Jae Chan may not know you well enough to see that there’s been a change in you, but I’ve known you for four years, and spent nearly all my time with you for a good chunk of our lives. I know something’s different, so don’t tell me it isn’t. Amaya noticed too. You didn’t even see her yesterday, you banged right into her. Something’s not right. I’ve been thinking it for weeks.”

Haneul looked around the classroom, as if the old desks or dusty books would tell her what to say to appease Cara. 

She sighed. “Look. I’ll admit something happened. But I can’t tell you, alright? I just can’t, so you might as well pretend there isn’t anything going on. Because as far as you, or anyone can be concerned, there isn’t anything going on.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better or something?” Cara shot back. “Just tell me what’s wrong. I can tell there’s something bothering you. And I don’t care what anyone else has told you, you don’t have to hide it.”

Haneul looked up from playing with her hair between her fingers, and gave Cara a sort of sad, pitying look. 

“What if it’s nobody telling me to hide it? What if I just want to hide it of my own volition? You’re hiding things too, Cara. I’m not asking you to tell me, because I know you’re not going to.”

“Who said I’m hiding anything? Even if I was, maybe I would tell you.” She responded, defensively. 

“”Just like how you’re so sure with me, I’m sure with you. I don’t want you to tell me what it is, because you’re clearly not ready. I’ll just accept that there is something, and move on from it. I trust you’ll tell me when you’re ready.”

“But- but this is different.” Cara said, imploringly. “Whatever this is, it’s causing something bad, I can see it is, you’re withdrawn and not yourself, and that’s  _ bad _ . Even if I am hiding something, it’s not affecting me badly.”

“Perhaps it’s making you more cynical.” Haneul smiled a real smile. “I promise you, I’m fine. Just a little more… Pensive, these days.”

Did Cara know more than what she was letting on? Had she seen something? Heard something? Haneul felt genuine concern from her, and knew she wasn’t purely nosy, but still wondered whether Cara’s natural curiosity would cause her to dig deeper. Would she try and learn Legilimency? After all, she did know about it, Jae Chan had talked about it all those weeks ago, before Occlumency had become as natural as Haneul’s own skin in her life. She could tell that she had not fully satisfied Cara’s curiosity, but in reminding her that she too had something she was hiding, could at least discern that she had left Cara less assured about her curiosity and perhaps slightly apprehensive to use it further.

“When did Amaya tell you that I nearly killed her?” Haneul asked, out of the blue as they were halfway to the Great Hall. 

“Oh, yesterday evening. When you went to take those books back to the library with Jae Chan.” Cara smirked suddenly. “What’s going on with you and him anyway?”

“What do you mean?” Haneul asked, although she was perfectly aware of what Cara meant. 

“You spend an awful lot of time with him.” She wriggled her eyebrows.

“So?” Haneul asked, looking at Cara skeptically. “I spend a lot of time with you and Amaya, but there’s nothing more than friendship between us.”

“If you say so.” Cara glanced unbelievingly at Haneul. “You don’t need to worry about him not liking you. He’s  _ clearly _ smitten.”

Haneul frowned. “We’re  _ friends _ , Cara. Just like you and I. Anyway, you wouldn’t want any of us to become more than that. What if one of us goes out with another, and then split up? Wouldn’t that ruin our friendship between the four of us?”

Cara looked very serious all of a sudden, as they reached the massive oak doors to the Great Hall, propped open and filled with chatter and scent. 

“You’re right, I definitely wouldn’t want that.”

If something had bothered Cara about that particular remark, she shook it off quickly as she and Haneul made their way up the Ravenclaw table, where Amaya and Jae Chan were already sitting, in heated conversation. 

“That cannot be a real thing. It seems absurd.” Jae Chan was saying very seriously. 

“It is real, I promise you. Loads of muggles do it. There’s even special food made for us.”

“What’s the problem?” Haneul asked, sitting down beside Amaya and reaching for a roll. 

“She  _ says _ that she is a vegetarian.” Jae Chan pointed his spoon at Amaya. “And that it means she does not eat meat, and has never eaten meat.”

“Yeah, that’s right.” Cara nodded, pouring herself some coffee.

Jae Chan still looked baffled. 

“Like I said, my whole family are. Lots of muggles don’t eat meat, for health reasons, and my family are all Buddhists, so they believe that it’s wrong to kill animals.”

This did not seem to make him any less confused. 

“It’s a religion.” Haneul said, airily. “You know what that is, the worshipping thing you told them about when you were explaining what Shin means.”

“Well, I didn’t know that religions told you how to  _ eat _ .” Jae Chan found his voice and glanced between the three of them.

“Not all of them do. Some religions ban eating certain types of meat, some don’t even care. With Buddhism, my parents said it’s about how you interpret the ideas. And they chose that the meanings of the non-violence teachings extend to animals, and that it’s wrong to eat meat.”

“Do you agree with them?” Jae Chan asked. 

She shrugged. “Not sure. But I was just raised this way, wasn’t I? I’ve always been taught to be a vegetarian, so I suppose that just seems right to me. I don’t know that I feel  _ religiously _ about it, but it’s like how Haneul doesn’t like coffee, because her mum thinks it’s bad and always said so. I don’t mind if you all want to eat it in front of me, and I know that if I tried to stop you, I’d get cursed into oblivion, but I just don’t want to try it.” She bit into a roll with a smile. “Does that make sense?”

Jae Chan nodded, although he still looked amused.

“What’s funny?” Cara asked?

“Oh, nothing.” He smiled, but for the first time, did not seem truly honest. “Just thinking about how my mother would react if I said to her that I was going to become a ‘vegetarian’.”   


He looked absent-minded, and Haneul could understand how he knew that she had been bothered by something those weeks ago. A mist had crossed his face, even if he did not know it.


	21. That Year

The last few days leading up to the end of term were a flurry as usual as everyone attempted to relocate everything lost over the last two-and-a-half months, and hurried to finish homework due before term ended. Almost everyone in the castle was returning home, because very few students wanted to stay stuck to the bullseye of a murderer’s target, and even fewer parents were willing to dange their children before danger’s grasp. Amaya always went home, because her parents always wanted her to, and Cara missed her brother more than she cared to admit. Jae Chan similarly talked fondly of seeing his little brother, and Haneul too, wanted to return home, because home was where her mother was.

Haneul had not realised what was really bothering her until the sign-up sheet to stay at Hogwarts over the Christmas holidays came around, and Haneul, passing it down the table without adding her name, realised that she would be seeing her mother before the month was gone. It was that which made her realise that more than Occlumency or Sirius Black, what had weighed on her mind were all the questions she had, all the things she wanted to know to embellish a tale told in a few paragraphs written in hot summer months so unlike the cold ones that were upon them now. Snape had answered her few questions in his curt and detached way, of course, but more than the plot, Haneul cared about how Minjeong had felt, how she had perceived the events. And, after all, it was Minjeong who had really been present for these events, and the one who had felt the most strongly about them. Even more, there were questions that would have been impossible for Snape to answer, because he did not know what Minjeong had done privately in the years between their two meetings, and he had not experienced or heard of what she had truly been through.

Although such questions might have been answered in letters, Haneul felt no desire to write to her mother about her curiosities. She had come to believe that conversation was the best way to settle a subject, that things were always left out of writing to make it more concise or to ease a painful wrist. When people talked, they could say more than when they wrote, and Haneul knew that she did not want to read bland ink from a page about something so intricate. She had only felt a small flare of anger at the lies, although she did worry that the paper silence might have led Minjeong to think that she was angry, although Haneul had made a note inside her mind to affirm that she had not, and would not, be angry about a lie when it had been protective.

On the last day of term, Haneul, Amaya and Jae Chan celebrated Cara’s birthday, which would happen during the holidays, on January 1st. The day was made even more enjoyable when Professor Flitwick gave up trying to teach them anything, and let the whole class play games and talk. Haneul seized the opportunity to disillusion parts of Amaya, for Cara’s enjoyment. She had excelled at this particular charm, and was happy that it had some use. 

“Stop… stop…” Jae Chan was clutching his stomach, as Amaya tickled under his chin with an invisible arm, that expression of pure joy etched across his face. 

Cara was also trying to say something, but she had been robbed of speech. 

“Do you do this every time someone has a birthday?” Jae Chan asked, wiping his eyes as Amaya’s arm reappeared and she rescinded it. 

“Not every time.” Haneul stowed her wand. “On Amaya’s birthday, we’ll probably throw ice cubes at her, seeing as it’s in July.”

“When is  _ your _ birthday?” Cara asked Jae Chan. “I don’t think you’ve ever told us.”

“September, on the 16th.”

“You mean, your birthday passed and we didn’t do  _ anything _ ?” Amaya asked, looking shocked. “And you didn’t even tell us?”

“I forgot to mention it.” He shrugged. “It was only a few weeks after I arrived, and I didn’t even remember until my brother sent me a card.”

“That’s unacceptable. We’ll do something when we get back.” Haneul said, firmly. 

Jae Chan’s cheeks tinged. “There’s no need to. We’ve always got next year, you can just vanish my whole body, and leave me as a pair of eyes to make up for it.” He grinned. 

“Next year… You’ll turn seventeen, won’t you?” Cara asked, interestedly.

He nodded. “So be careful, or I will turn you into a slug on the train home for Christmas.” 

Jae Chan had not actually ever ridden the school train, Haneul found out, as they all made their way to Hogsmeade Station, lugging their trunks. He had come via side-along-apparition, with his mother, because he had been a few days late. It also turned out that he was meant to arrive on the same day as everyone else, but that he had been delayed because international travel by apparition and portkey was slowed due to the manhunt for Sirius Black.

The scene outside of the windows got steadily less snowy as the train moved further south, where it was a fraction warmer than the snow-capped Hogwarts. There was the constant buzz of chatter, because it was nearly as full as it would be on start and end of term days, the castle that it left behind holding only a handful of students, and the staff. Haneul did not know what Snape planned to do, and did not know where he would have gone if he was not at Hogwarts. She knew he did have somewhere it was possible for him to go, although found it hard to imagine him in a house or anywhere that wasn’t below the surface, amongst the desks and vapours of the potions dungeons.

The platform was very crowded, full of parents waiting for their children, but Haneul did not find it hard to spot her mother, because of who she was standing next to. The woman could have only been Jae Chan’s mother, and made it glaringly obvious where he had got his looks from. She was extremely beautiful, and seemed to have a grace like no other. Her skin was smooth and glowing, and although it was clear that she was probably only a few years older than Minjeong, she did not look old, or aged, but simply mature, and perfect. Although many people around her seemed to be in awe of her, Minjeong, by the looks of it, was not intimidated by Jae Chan’s mother. They seemed to be having what must have been a fairly interesting conversation, because they were looking right at each other, and looked to be enjoying themselves. They only looked up as the train came to a stop, and Haneul saw, with a shock, that the only difference between Jae Chan and his mother were their eyes. They were exactly the same shape, but they were not the same deep and warm brown. They appeared to be somewhere between yellow and brown, a golden, glowing colour. It did not make her frightening, however, only more beautiful, and Haneul found herself feeling, for some reason, that it had been stupid to assume her eyes would be brown, because they seemed to fit so obviously at the colour that they were. 

As students began to pour from the train, someone else next to Minjeong and Jae Chan’s mother, previously unseen, stirred too. A little boy, clutching his mother’s hand, had been looking around with wonder. He was the spitting image of his brother, too, only a bit paler. Jae Chan saw him first, his face lighting up, but it wasn’t long before the small boy found his brother, and let go of his mother’s hand hurtling towards Jae Chan, yelling the last syllable of his name. 

If Jae Chan had seemed joyous the previous day, laughing at Amaya’s vanished arm, it was nothing compared to this. He looked as though nothing would make him happier as he lifted the five-year-old up, hugging him tightly. He seemed to forget all else, as he tucked Jae Hyeon’s hair out of his eyes and asked him, euphoria in both of their eyes, about how he had been.

They were only interrupted when Cara yelped, because Ian had snuck up behind her and thudded her on the shoulder. He looked the same, Haneul thought, as he had last year when he was still at Hogwarts. Cara chose to devote herself to attempting to hit Ian, and Amaya had already disappeared into the crowd to find her parents, who she said were still not used to all the owls. 

In the momentary pause during this flurry, Minjeong had picked her way through the crowd to reach Haneul’s side, though quietly. It was only when Haneul turned away from Jae Chan, who was still talking to his enraptured brother, that she noticed her mother standing beside her, a hand already on her trunk.

“Let’s go." She said quietly, and Haneul heard some apprehension in her mother’s voice as she gripped her arm and felt both of them spinning into nothingness. Apparition, like always, felt like being squeezed through a tube that was too small, and constantly pressing in around oneself. 

When it ended, they were back in familiarity. The house in Rowena Way was not necessarily massive, but it had a certain warmth that made it perfect. The kitchen, the place where everyone entered, was always welcoming, with its soft light and scents. It would always be home to Haneul, and as she blinked, ridding herself of the sensation of apparition, she looked over at the only person she’d ever felt was home.

Just like how the house had never changed, neither had Minjeong, which was perhaps what made her so comforting, and what melted away any small dregs of anger that Haneul could have felt at all. But while she had not physically changed, Minjeong’s face was clouded with worry and apprehension as she turned to face her daughter, almost like seeing her for the first time.

“Are you worried that I’m angry with you?” Haneul asked, trying to meet her mother’s eyes.

“Aren’t you? I lied to you.”

Haneul shook her head. “No, I’m not angry. I don’t think I was angry at all, not really.”

“Well, I just wondered… You didn’t seem to say much when you wrote to me, I wondered if it was because you were too angry to say anything, and it took awhile for you to reply…”She trailed off.

“I  _ was _ really busy.” Haneul explained. “I wasn’t angry, not for long, I just suppose that I didn’t know what to say.”

“But you were angry?” Minjeong asked, the hand by her side clenching with unconscious anxiety.

“Momentarily, maybe. But I’m not anymore. That’s a promise. You didn’t lie for any bad reasons, and… I don’t necessarily think it would have been easy, to be you in that situation. Whether or not you had regrets, you got the worst lot.”

Minjeong smiled sadly. “Do you think so?”

“You got left with a baby. So many things you wanted to do, you probably couldn’t have done. And you were on your own. That’s not easy, even if you chose it to be that way.”

“I think a lot of people pity me in that way.” Minjeong nodded, but she didn’t look sad. Instead, a sort of radiancy crossed her face, and she looked younger.

“I always wanted to be a mother. Maybe it was how much my own parents indoctrinated me with the idea that it was a woman’s only purpose, maybe it was just me. But I never, ever saw myself in my future without children. So I wasn’t upset to be pregnant, even if it was a little earlier than I had expected. But my parents had always made it clear that I would be married soon after I left school. I didn’t necessarily think I was at the prime age to have a baby, but being a mother at nineteen wasn’t far off the mark.”

“But you were alone… You said it yourself, you would be married before you had children.”

Now Minjeong smiled wryly. “That’s true. But marriage in the sense that my parents wanted was not what I wanted. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not against marriage. But for people like my parents, marriage is less about love, and more about transaction. They would let me marry who I wanted in theory, as long as he was of a good social background, had a good job, and fitted the thousands of other requirements they had set. In short, they were likely to just choose him for me. I never wanted that. I was happy to marry someone I loved, but as you well know, I never would have subjected myself willingly to a lifetime with someone I had no feeling for. And I don’t think any traditional man my parents would have approved of would have been happy to let me have much freedom either. I wanted to work, not stay at home all the time. My parents thought educating me abroad would make me more attractive to suitors, but they turned me into someone who rejected all their ideals instead. I saw what my friends’ parents were like, how their mothers did more than sit quietly beside their husbands, how they had jobs and hobbies and identities. Before I found out that I was pregnant, I was dreading going home, because I knew I’d just be forced into my parents’ mould. Instead, I had a ticket out of it all.”

“But wouldn’t they make you come back anyway, even after I was born?”

Minjeong shook her head, still smiling. “No. I told them at first I wanted to spend more time here, with my friends, just for another month or two, and my father said that was alright. Then once I was properly settled, I wrote to them and told them I was pregnant. And that was it for me then, as far as they were concerned. Even if I did give you up for adoption, which I was never going to do, someone might still find out, and that would be shameful. And if I didn’t, well, nobody would marry a single mother, and I made it clear I wasn’t getting married either. So I wasn’t going to create any successful unions anymore, and they let me stay here. I never went back, until a few years ago, and that was only really to see your uncle. They never even asked me about you.” Despite the depressing nature of this tale, the fact that Minjeong had been effectively abandoned by her own parents, she was still smiling. “I wasn’t upset. I’d been looking for a way to stay here, in England, for months. And you came along. I don’t know why, but I often feel like it was meant to happen.”

Haneul tried to comprehend this. Maybe it was because she had never been in her mother’s situation, but she could not see why it was a favourable one. To be so young and laden with such responsibility seemed too daunting to imagine, to have all that freedom stolen was too constricting for her liking. 

“Wasn’t it lonely?” She asked, after remaining silent for a while.

“Not for long. At first, yes. I didn’t tell anyone until winter of that year, and I did feel alone then. It wasn’t easy all the time, but it got better once I told people, my friends and my coworkers. And then very quickly, you were born, and after that, I would  _ never _ be alone. I suppose I was lucky, really, friends, like Hestia, always helped me out. And they didn’t ask questions. Most were fine with staying not curious about your father, but Hestia saw through in an instant when I said I didn’t know, only she said it was fine not to say, and just was there for me, without being nosy.” Minjeong smiled a knowing smile, only a flicker of sadness on her face. “I’ll answer every question that you have, if I can, and I promise you that. But if you don’t let Pinnochio out of his cage, he might kill us before I have the chance.”

Haneul went to her owl, unlatching the cage whilst still deep in thought. She wanted to understand, firstly because Minjeong was her mother, and she loved her, but secondly because Haneul had always felt a certain desire to understand all that she could. She tried, as she watched her owl flutter to the perch, which currently did not hold her mother’s, to imagine what it might have been like to feel free in a situation like that. She had unintentionally, and unconsciously, felt guilty for the burden she might have placed on her mother, and still did not entirely believe that she had been all good. Perhaps Minjeong would have found her perfect match if she had gone home, or more than that, would have found another way to stay in England if not for an unplanned pregnancy. Even if she denied it, there was no way Minjeong had retained all freedoms after becoming a mother. It was impossible to be so, Haneul decided. What if she had wanted to travel, be young for a little longer? Perhaps Minjeong had wanted another career, but she had been forced to give it up because she was now tied down by a child. Haneul wondered if the one question she had asked her mother in that letter written in october would ever be answered truthfully. Minjeong, of course, could not be blamed for not being one hundred percent honest in that case - a person’s feelings were private, and did not have to be shared with anyone.

On her desk was an old transfiguration textbook. It must have been from second year, three years ago. It wasn’t that long, but it felt like centuries had passed between then and that moment in time. There was a piece of parchment inside it, and Haneu pulled it out to recognise the list of names she and Cara had written in the library on the fruitless search for her father. She had forgotten about it for all the time between then, had entirely forgotten about the subject. She did want knowledge, and truthfully had always felt curious about the topic, but it had slipped her mind until the diary had been dropped into her lap. She saw some of the names were crossed out, ones she and Cara had decided could not possibly belong to her father, because of physical appearance, mostly. They had been right to do that, even now Haneul had to admit. They had never been looking for someone who resembled her, but their fatal mistake had been in assumption of the mysterious figure’s age. A smile crossed Haneul’s face as she wondered if, had they looked through the Slytherin students the year below her mother, and come across Snape’s name, she would have never considered him for a moment. Probably not, she decided, as she reached for a quill to draw a line through all of the unmarked names left on the parchment, because it had been solved at last.

***

A few days passed before Haneul asked her mother any more questions. She did have them, stored up and wanting to be asked, but held back because she was worried about the emotional effect it might have on her mother. She could tell that despite the smiles, some of the tale of those years was painful, or hard, because it had been more lonely than she ever let on. It was snowing by then, even in the relatively southern Rowena Way, making the light brick houses look like models from a Christmas card. Haneul had already heard from Cara once, who assured her that Ian was annoying her to no end, and Haneul assumed that Jae Chan was too busy with his little brother to think about writing anyone letters.

Minjeong had been putting up a Christmas card, and Haneul had been sitting, folding school uniform recently washed, when the urge to ask came over her, and it felt right to say something. 

“Can you tell me, tell me how it all happened?” She asked, momentarily looking up from her task.

Minjeong turned around, and leant against the counter, and she was smiling again. “That’s a broad question. With a very long answer.”

“I’ve got time.” Haneul replied, returning the smile.

“Well, be more specific, I’m not too sure where to start.”

“You’re a year older than him.” Haneul stated. “I don’t know anyone in the year below me. When I looked, once, to try and find my father, I never even thought to look for people who weren’t your age.”

“Well, it wasn’t planned. You don’t plan to meet people, though. Before Severus became the potions master, there was an old man called Horace Slughorn. I don’t know Severus’ teaching methods, but old Slughorn never hid who his favourites were. He made a special little club, for all the students who were his favourites. He deemed all of us either already successful or good enough in academics to do very well once we left Hogwarts. He chose Severus, chose most of us because we were good enough at potions. I don’t know why he chose me, maybe he knew my parents were from the semi-elite, I’m not sure. But we met at his supper parties. We were friends, in a way. He was unpopular, except among some… select people. But he wasn’t uninteresting, or necessarily a bad person. Just more awkward and unattractive than others. The popular ones didn’t like him, I don’t think. We didn’t talk about anything personal, I wouldn’t say we were really close. And when I told him I was-”

“I’ve seen it.”

“Seen it?” Minjeong raised her eyebrows. 

“In a memory.”

She nodded in understanding. “Well, then you’ll know I wasn’t emotionally attached to him. We didn’t love each other, and I didn’t want to ruin his life. I knew he didn’t want a kid, he was only a kid. Maybe I was too, but I was more mature, I think. And, I don’t know if you know this, but he  _ did _ become a death eater. I trust that he’s defected, Dumbledore says he has irrefutable evidence. But I wasn’t going to marry someone I didn’t love, and I never wanted to bring my child up amongst the dark arts. It was scary enough to raise you when You-know-who was at the height of power, I didn’t want to push you or me into that any more.” 

“Were you angry? At all? I think I would have been.”

Minjeong looked pensive for a few moments, and twisted her hands together. 

“A bit. Not that I’d made a mistake with the wrong person, and not with Severus at first. He couldn’t help being the age he was, it was what we had to deal with for being irresponsible. I was more than happy to raise you on my own, considering everything. I didn’t want him around. I only became angry after he defected, for a little bit. I couldn’t understand at first, why he seemed not to care at all about you. I understood why, as a student, and a death eater, he’d not be involved. But it took me time to figure out why he wouldn’t even let me tell you who he was now that You-know-who was gone, and he wasn’t on his side, or being accused of it, anymore.”

“I don’t know how much I understand it either.” Haneul admitted. 

“Dumbledore didn’t tell me much, and neither would Severus. But nobody knows he defected, I’ve learned. None of the other death eaters knew his allegiance had ended, and nobody on our side knew he was even on You-know-who’s side. I mean, lots of people had their suspicions, but stopped having them, because Severus was never accused after You-know-who fell. From what I know, Dumbledore blocked it, because he wanted to use him for something.”

“I think…” Haneul was not sure if it was smart to confide this, but knew there was no one else to tell. “That Dumbledore would want Snape, if You-know-who comes back, to pretend to be a death eater again, as a spy or something.”

“Did he tell you that?”

“Not explicitly, but it makes some sense. I asked him something… and his answer seemed to suggest it.”

Minjeong laughed.

“What’s funny?”   


“Well, when you say things like that… You remind me of him.” She said. “I don’t think I know him best of everyone, but I think I know him well enough. And one thing that I’ve noticed as you grow up is that you’re like him. Not in looks, no, but sometimes the way you talk or act. You’re more controlled and reserved than me… And that’s what he’s like. Like I said, we didn’t talk about personal stuff, and part of that was because he was so reserved, and so private.”

Haneul considered this, and was not sure she agreed. She wasn’t sure she was like anyone, except herself. 

“What did you do after you left Hogwarts?”

“A lot, yet not much.” Minjeong replied, walking over to the table. “I got a job, and this house, with Dumbledore’s help, and I started working. At first, I didn’t tell anyone that I was pregnant, I had it all planned. I would be a model employee, and then a few months in, pretend that I’d only just learned I was pregnant, and tell my boss. Around that time, in October, I wrote to my parents too. My boss, he’s still my boss, you know, Miller, was good about it. I took a few weeks off when you were born, but I would bring you to the office, sometimes.” Minjeong smiled nostalgically. “Everyone thought you were ever so cute.”

“You took me into work with you?” Haneul asked, in surprise. It was strangely moving, more than anything else, to think of this.

“Well, the only downside to being on my own was that there wasn’t anyone to look after you. So I would just put you in a sling, and keep you on my chest all day. You didn’t cry very much, and if you did, we pretty quickly figured out that you would calm down if you had your back stroked.”

Haneul found herself smiling at this. Hearing things like this made things feel a little more real, and less sinister, less stricken than Snape always made everything seem. Perhaps it was just his demeanour, but he never gave the impression of anything bright or positive, and seemed only focussed on dark things to come, rather than anything possibly good that existed in the past or present. Maybe it was that she was still a child, but Haneul wanted to hear the good of that time, not the bad. This, she knew, was because she did not want to feel any guilt, did not want to think she had ruined something or become a burden on a previously free life. After all, she herself was so free, so able to do anything and yet she stood here as someone who had possibly been nothing but a dark spot, something bothersome that had led to lies and secrets and anguish.

Minjeong had promised not to lie, but it was doubtful that she would be honest if the honesty was harmful, Haneul thought. She did feel that she knew her mother well, even if there had been things she hadn’t known for so long, and was therefore confident that she would spare feelings if she could. And there was probably, in Minjeong’s mind, no reason to blacken Haneul’s view of herself when it was irrelevant to the tale. It was true, Haneul thought, that if she had been told that she had ruined her mother’s life, she would feel a lot more horrible, and although she couldn’t feel truly confident in everything Minjeong had said, still felt affection for her mother for her unendingly caring nature.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read away: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1wc6alN70rpMCE2FEnoZJdNvsTTEWSZ59lo_FSbLNAOg/edit?usp=sharing


	22. The Children of the Way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually really love these two chapters! I hope you enjoy them too :D
> 
> As always, I have a reflection on these linked at the end with some analysis/extra bits and bobs! Check that out for more info on the writing/content of these.
> 
> Chapters are slowly going to get longer now - this one is (I think) the first 5,000 word chapter of the story. Before long, 8,000 will be the norm (that's what I've been writing at for a while now). I hope you enjoy that - I'll always publish 2 a week so the actual amount of words and plot you get will be going up weekly now!

Haneul suspected there was some mutual mistrust between her and her mother as the days leading up to Christmas passed. Haneul could still not truthfully believe that her mother had never felt burdened and resentful of her situation, and by extension, Haneul herself, but Minjeong didn’t seem to fully trust that Haneul was not still angry with her. This sort of tension had never hung over the house before. Even though Haneul and her mother had fought in the past, their closeness had always melted away the ill feelings within a day or two, sped on by the simple realisation that they really only had each other, and therefore needed to end any rifts. In theory, this was still true. Haneul was sure that Snape would never become like a parent to her. It was too late now, she had become too used to the lack of a second parent that it had stopped being a lack altogether, yet for some reason there was an inexplicable distance between Haneul and her mother, even though Minjeong had so recently opened herself up to her daughter and seemed more than willing to do so again, should it be required. The distance manifested itself physically, too. Haneul found herself spending far more time in her room, blaming it on homework but admitting secretly that she simply wanted to be alone, and that was the only place that she could really be alone, the only part of the house and indeed Haneul’s life that another person did not influence and change, the only part that was truly hers. 

It was not an extremely large room, but it seemed bigger because it faced over the street and in the mornings light streamed in, breaking through the curtains. On the left, facing the wall, there was a desk, usually littered with pieces of parchment, or in particular this time, books and quills as well due to the mountain of holiday homework Haneul had to do. It had been under the window, but for some reason that she couldn’t remember, Haneul had moved it the previous year. On the wall above the desk, she had slowly accumulated a collection of photos, lists, and some newspaper clippings, over the many years she had lived here. There was still a packing list for Hogwarts, pinned lower down, written in messier handwriting than more recent notes, and a clipping about animagi from the Daily Prophet that Haneul remembered cutting out in the summer of her third year. There was a photo, too, of her and Cara, from second-year, and further up, placed as Haneul had grown, one with her and Cara and Amaya, after getting off the train at the end of the last summer term. She was sure both Amaya and Cara had a copy of this, and was at least certain Amaya did, because she said her parents had still not become used to how the three girls moved in the photo, Cara waving and Haneul pulling Amaya closer to her so she would be properly in frame. 

It was a physical representation of growth, as Haneul had become taller and older, placing things up higher and higher, showing the gradual morphosis from child to somewhere in between that and adult. It was as if the desk, which still had remnants of a young child, had exhaed these things, like a sieve, having sifted out the most important parts of Haneul’s life so far, the rest lay under years worth of memory layers. Not necessarily wanting to get started on a Muggle Studies essay, Haneul lifted the stack of Herbology books that had been wobbling slightly, to find the cause to be a scrunched up letter. She smoothed it out and felt a smile play at her lips, scanning the words. It was a letter from Cara - from the first ever summer holiday, before second year, before anything. It made Haneul feel even more guilty for the way she had to lie to Cara. It bothered her to lie to any of her friends, but even more so with Cara. Cara had been worried, not intrusive, and she had not wanted to know anything because she was nosy, but because she cared. 

Sighing, Haneul folded the letter twice and then opened the right drawer on the desk. It had a selection of various trinkets and keepsakes, whilst the drawer on the left held spare stationery, extra quills and ink and parchment, far more orderly. In the open drawer there were older things, mostly items that had been on display at one point or another. A miniature model of a puffskein, which had moved like the real thing years earlier, though the charm had worn off, and a few Chocolate Frog cards, whose occupants had long deserted their frames. There was an empty crystal phial too, which Haneul picked up in her empty hand and turned over, trying to think about where it was from and what it had held, but she couldn’t. She thought it was odd that she had something like this, that had clearly been important to her, yet she had no idea why. She remembered the puffskein model, having been obsessed with the creatures after reading about them at age nine, and how she had kept those Chocolate Frog cards in that drawer because she had struggled to find them. Knitting her brows together, she tried to pull it out of her mind, but it wouldn’t come. She couldn’t even remember ever using phials like these until Potions lessons. 

Giving it up as a bad job and making a mental note to try and work it out later, Haneul replaced the phial in her drawer and added the letter from Cara into it as well, trying not to think about her guilt. Of course, that just made her think about it even more, because there was really no escaping it right now. Would she ever be able to tell this to anyone? Or would she, for the remainder of her life, which was not likely to end extremely soon, be forced to keep this secret?

_ Put it in perspective _ , she told herself.  _ There are worse secrets to keep, things that are harder to hide _ . It wasn’t that bad, not really, to have to keep quiet about something most people thought she didn’t know. 

Not wanting to be in her room anymore, because it was too quiet and left her too alone with her thoughts, Haneul pulled herself out of her chair and turned away from her desk and all the piles of memories stacked above it, trying to tell herself, as she left the room, that she was making too much of everything. 

As she reached the bottom of the staircase that came out right in the kitchen, Haneul saw that it too, was empty. Minjeong was outside, upon further inspection. Haneul could see her in the garden, holding what looked to be a bedraggled owl. Haneul rushed to the garden door, which was ajar, confused, but mostly eager to have something else on her mind.

“What’s that?” She asked, pointing to the limp, feathery mass in her mother’s arms.

“It’s from my brother, I think. Only the owl’s come a long way in the cold, so he’s a bit…” She made an explanatory gesture towards the creature, which appeared to be relying on Minjeong to stay somewhat upright. She then shrugged, and walked back to the door. “I think I should get him inside.”

Once placed on the counter, in the warm, the owl perked up a little, and eventually stretched out its leg to allow Minjeong to remove the letter. It was a handsome eagle owl, the type that were expensive and typically only owned by people who were very rich, very show-offy, or both. It was not the sort of owl you’d see every day, and Wendy, Haneul noticed, who was a brown owl, seemed to gaze at it in a rather stand-offish manner, as if the newcomer was ridiculous and frivolous, and glared at Minjeong when she offered the eagle some water from her tray. As if sensing some excitement, Pinnochio came to rest on the perch too, and joined Wendy in the silent judgement of this foreign entity. 

Minjeong, however, did not even see the way the owls were behaving, because she was focussed on the letter she had just unrolled. Turning her attention to her mother, in hopes to gain some idea of what was written on the parchment, Haneul observed as her mother’s eyebrows became closer and closer together as her quick brown eyes flitted down the parchment. When she had finished reading, by which time she was looking sufficiently annoyed, Minjeong gave a loud tut, and a sigh, and then put the letter down. 

“What did it say?” Haneul asked, cautiously. 

Minjeong looked a little surprised to find she was not alone. 

“My brother, that is to say, your uncle, is just doing what he always does.”

“Always does?”

“Of course, I haven’t told you. I said already, I told my parents that I was pregnant during winter. Well, near Christmas, my brother wrote to me, telling me to come home and ‘sort everything out’. I told him no, because there wasn’t anything to sort out, and he’s been doing the same thing every year. Though I admit I didn’t think he was going to write this year, he usually sends something before your term ends, but it’s already the 23rd and it’s only just arrived. When I went back a few years ago, it was really him who persuaded my parents to ask.”

“Does he miss you that much?” Haneul asked. She had never met this uncle, her mother’s older brother. 

“I don’t know that he  _ misses _ me. Probably a bit, just like how I miss him a bit. But he was obsessed with me ‘making things right’ again. You know, becoming the traditional wife I was supposed to be. I think he thinks it’s best for me. He couldn’t understand, when I went back, that I had a good life here, that you were doing well despite being the child of a fallen woman.”

“A fallen woman?” Haneul repeated. “Is that what he thinks you are?”

“Not in a malicious way.” Minjeong reassured her. “He thinks he’s got my best interests at heart. That I’m secretly suffering, and that by extension you are too.” A wry smile played at her lips. “And he thinks, like all the family, that if he gets me back there long enough, he’ll be able to wheedle out of me who your father is, and then make him marry me.” 

“Does he not know the full story?”

“He knows, he just won’t listen.” Minjeong sighed and pointed her wand at some potatoes, which flew over to the sink and began to scrub themselves. “He thinks I’ve been lying to everyone for fifteen years. He thinks I really did want to get married, and that I pretended to be fine.” She laughed, somewhere in between bitter and mocking. “Unfortunately, your uncle doesn’t know me as well as he’d like to think. He thinks all women are weak and need men to make them better. And,” she smirked as the cleaned potatoes flew back to the counter, “he doesn’t know Severus, and can’t be expected to know that even if I did want to get married, it wouldn’t be to him.”

“So he wants you to go back to Korea, so he can convince you to get married and live what he thinks is an honourable life?”

“Exactly.” Minjeong nodded, unbothered.

“Has he never thought to come here? If he’s so desperate to convince you.”

Minjeong laughed, and it was real laughter, spreading youth across her face. 

“He’d never want to come all the way here. Even if he cares about me, he still reckons he’s better than me, and doesn’t need to travel many miles for me. He certainly wouldn’t want to leave his comfortable home for what he thinks I live in. And anyhow, I wouldn’t want him here, looking down his nose as you all the time.” 

“At me? Because I’m someone’s illegitimate child?” Haneul asked, leaning against the counter and letting Pinnochio nip at her finger. 

“Partially. But if my family thinks I’m a disgrace, I don’t know what they’d think of you. They’ve decided that your father must not be a pure-blood, like they are, which is right, although I’ve never said it, and they guessed that he wasn’t Korean, or he would have married me instantly. So as far as they’re concerned, you’re illegitimate, and half-blood in every sense of the word. Perhaps my brother wouldn’t be outrightly prejudiced, but he’d still see you as inferior, I think. And my parents, well, they’ve said nasty things about you, and would likely say them to you as well, if they had the chance.”   
  
“What have they said?” Haneul asked. She didn’t feel hurt, she could recognise that these reasons to see her as inferior were plainly stupid, but did perhaps feel a little angry, on behalf of her mother. 

“When I said I wouldn’t take you with me, two Christmasses ago, my mother got it into her head that you made that choice, and spent two days explaining how ‘half-breed children are disobedient’. It actually made me leave early. I won’t be going back if all they’re going to say is that you’re something less worthy because of your parental circumstances. You’re far more clever and interesting than my brother’s children, and you’re also far more important to me than them.” She finished, a sort of determined frown on her face. 

“I am? But they’re still your family, even if they’ve acted in a bad way.”

“You’re more important. It’s part of being a mother, I think. Your children become the most important thing to you. I don’t want my parents, or my brother, to die, or anything like that, but I don’t hold them to the same importance as you anymore, because they’ve shown that they don’t really care about me or you. Even if you’re a little angry with me, you care about me more than them, and you’re not going to desert me for my choices, or things that just happened without my control.” Minjeong smiled. “I won’t lie and say it was easy to let go of my family. I was angry, or resentful, sometimes. But I did get over it, eventually. Like I said, it’s what happens when you have kids. They become the most important thing to you. If you ever have kids, you might understand.”

The more she heard about it, Haneul thought, over dinner, the more she felt sorry for rather than angry at mother for the choices she’d made. She had forgotten, through all of this, that despite her outer strength, Minjeong had faced her own struggles too. She couldn’t blame Minjeong for being protective or lying, when she could tell she was acting for Haneul’s safety, as well as her own interests. Haneul was realising and accepting that it was unrealistic, and selfish to have an expectation of her mother to never put her own interests first, to never just do what she wanted.

Coming to this peace of mind seemed to break the tension and detachment almost instantly, at least on Haneul’s end. She did now feel the connection between herself and her mother stronger now that she had heard her side of the tale, and been let into Minjeong’s real feelings about the situation. And in its own way, it helped Haneul to be at peace with what she didn’t know. Perhaps it was better, to not think of herself negatively, and to not worry so much about the poor effects she could have had on her mother’s life, because then it would waste every ounce of hard work that Minjeong had put in to try and ensure her daughter the best upbringing and happiest life possible.

Christmas was always a small affair in Haneul’s home, but it was also always comforting, especially after a few months of being constantly surrounded by people. Minjeong wasn’t friendless, but her friends had families of their own to spend Christmas with, which always led to it being a holiday which Haneul spent alone with her mother. SOme people had visited the house, as far as Haneul knew, prior to the actual day of Christmas, only that had been during the time where Haneul couldn’t bear to spend time in any state other than alone, so she had not been present at those moments. She could remember hearing some familiar voices, such as Hestia’s, whom she held even greater respect for these days after hearing about how she had helped her mother during hard times, and reflected that she regretted not being around more, because she did quite like Hestia, and the various other people that stopped by to pay her mother a visit.

On the morning of the twenty-fifth, Haneul awoke to snow outside her window. This was not altogether surprising, it being December, but it fell rather thicker than it had over the preceding days, and unusually so, because Rowena Way was so much further south than Hogwarts. Even in the half-light of the morning, Haneul observed, as she pressed the tip of her nose to the window, that it had been falling the entire night, and that the houses across the road were blanketed in white, which seemed to glow even though the sun was not yet at her highest point of the day. She had never seen the street looking so wintry, or perhaps she had never been up early enough on such a day to observe it in an unbroken state like this. Before long, the children of the Way would come out of doors to play in it, and would muss up the clean, smooth whiteness that covered the pavement and road, making them into one. No cars ever drove down here, as the road was not visible to muggles, owing to all the enchantments placed upon it, so it would not turn into grey slush in the same way that the roads of the village that encircled Rowena Way would before the month was gone. No adults were awake yet, haneul discerned, as her gaze raked up and down the houses, and she leant on the sill. None of the windows bathed the yellow-orange glow of lamplight onto the cool white that covered the ground, and it was only magic that lit these houses. 

Haneul gazed up to the sky, at the white flakes that fell from the clouds, that were not just puffs of off-white, but rolled across the whole sky, and let the snow flood down to earth. It was strange, she thought, and like the whole world, or at least this whole microcosm was gently swathed in something, making above and below soft and white. The rest of the country, even the rest of the world, may not have existed at that point, because light had come all around this small street and blocked out anything beyond it, shielding it from anything that might threaten the overall peace that had settled over the sky and her being. Maybe it was a sign that all would be well now, because everything had been resolved, and had calmed down enough to let life proceed in its current normality, a normality free of any sort of discord, the bliss that once would be, or once was, tossed up into the air from one darkened countenance to another with a bitter laugh that doubted the existence of such a thing in any but children or the naive. 

Movement somewhere else within the house and a realisation that her neck was aching from strain pulled Haneul away from the window and the sky, making her remember that time existed, and that she could not spend every moment looking upwards. She saw, out of the corner of her eye, as she turned into her room, a light flicker on in one of the houses on the other side of the street, and there was a soft tap on her own bedroom door, and her mother stepped into the room, wand held aloft to light the lamps.

Minjeong always looked younger in the mornings, because she was rested, and she was not wearing any make-up, and her hair was left down. That morning too, she looked youthful and graceful, a smile on her face and her eyes lit with the warmth of the glow of light once she had lit the lamps. 

“You’re up early. Happy Christmas.” She said, in her soft but strong voice. 

“It’s snowing.” Haneul replied, as a way of explanation, and stepped more into the pool if light. “Happy Christmas.”

“You know, I’m a little surprised you didn’t tell me that Sirius Black broke into your school.” Minjeong said, lightly, and put her arm around Haneul’s shoulder. 

“You didn’t know about that?” Haneul asked, surprised. She had not mentioned it, because it had happened at a time when she didn’t know what to put in a letter.

“Not until I properly read a Christmas card, just now.”

“It wasn’t in the  _ Prophet _ ?”

Minjeong shook her head. “No, it wasn’t. Doesn’t surprise me. Dumbledore’s not one to publicise things, and I don’t think the Ministry would want everyone knowing.”

“Nothing happened, anyway, as far as I’m aware.” Haneul found herself speaking reassuringly. “He didn’t get into Gryffindor Tower, and he didn’t harm anyone. We just spent a night in the Great Hall.”

Minjeong nodded, a little gravely. “I suppose there’s so many accomplished wizards and witches at Hogwarts that I shouldn’t worry about sending you back. But times like these, holidays, make me want to keep you here all the time.” She sighed. “Especially seeing as there’s not many of them left.”

“Not many left?” Haneul echoed.

“You’re growing up so fast, soon you’ll leave here, and then maybe you’ll be spending Christmas elsewhere.” 

A smile twitched at Haneul’s lips as an image flashed through her mind, somewhere deep beyond the barrier of occlumency. “Elsewhere? Where else would I go for Christmas?”

“I don’t know, perhaps you’ll get married, have a family of your own.”

“Me? Married? I don’t know… I don’t see myself as someone who’ll get married, somehow. Maybe it’s because you’re not, maybe it’s because it’s always been you and me, but I feel like here, this house, is always going to be my home. Even if I do move somewhere else one day, even if I do happen to get married, that wouldn’t be for a while. I’ll be young for a while yet. I’m not planning to get married in the next five years.”

“Anything could happen.” Minjeong said, knowingly, leading Haneul out of the room, because breakfast awaited. “Many people meet their lifetime partners at school. You might not think it now, but perhaps something will happen. I never experienced it, I was a good girl for a long time, but plenty of my friends met people they married at school. Hestia would have married Alexander, a boy in our house, if he hadn’t gone travelling, and stayed in Germany to work in their Ministry, you know.”

“So, who am I going to marry?” Haneul asked, a light laugh crossing her face as she reached to get the teapot from one of the kitchen cupboards. “Cara?”   


“I’m sure there’s plenty of options, though if you really want to marry Cara, I’ll figure out a way to make it happen.” Minjeong lent against the counter and casually flicked her wand at the kettle, which started to boil. “So there isn’t anything between you and that nice new boy? Or between any of your friends and that nice new boy?”

Haneul rolled her eyes at her mother. “No. You sound like Cara now. We’re all just friends. I think plenty of girls wish he would look at them, but he’s too sweet for anything like that. Too busy taking care of his little brother, too busy being nice to everyone who crosses his path.” Haneul looked pointedly at her mother. “What did his mother say to you to make you ask that?”

Minjeong laughed. “Nothing. She was actually asking me about the school. She had her doubts, she said she was worried he wouldn’t make any friends, because she wondered if English schoolchildren are unfriendly. She did say that you three were nice-looking, you know, meaning that you don’t look like you would bully her son, I think you alleviated her worries, you and Cara and Amaya.”

“Everyone likes him.” Haneul affirmed. “He’s very easy to like, because he's kind to everyone.” She poured water on the tea.

“You sound like you like him a lot. Sure you’re ‘only friends’? I’m not going to get angry with you. I don’t think you’d be as stupid as me.”

“Yes, I’m sure.” Haneul fixed her eyes on her mother’s, and wondered how she had never noticed that they were shades apart. “He’s just been… A real help to me. I’ve had to sneak off sometimes, to learn Occlumency, and he’ll just say I was with him when Cara or Amaya ask him, if they ask. And otherwise… It’d be harder to lie to them, I think.”

Minjeong nodded, in a knowing sort of way. “It makes sense that he’s willing to do that.”

“How so?”

She grinned. “I forget what you don’t know sometimes. If I remember right, his family is influential. More on his mother’s side, I think, but either way. I don’t know her personally, but I remember her name being thrown around when I was a teenager, as someone that it would be really good for my brother to marry, because her father had a high position in government. And from what I remember, the Moons, those from his father’s side, are very rich, and all made strategic marriages to keep themselves high-class and pure-blood. I don’t know if he’s from the same Moon family that my parents always talked about, but considering his mother, he probably is. It matters very little here, seeing as they’re foreign and most of the pure-blood status traditions have died out, but I’m sure that in Korea, his parents would have a lot of power amongst the wizarding community, and I’m sure people would be lining up to marry their daughters to both of those boys.”

Haneul narrowed her eyes and examined the handle of the teapot. Thinking about it, Jae Chan did seem the type to be from a rich and high-class background. He spoke so well, and seemed so refined even at a young age, like he had been around elegance and wealth his whole life.

“But why does that mean he’d be good at covering for me?”

“This is all just legend, of course, but I used to hear things at home about secrets, between all these old and noble families. You know, the typical things. Corruption, bribery, or maybe some in the family getting up to things that would be considered dishonourable, so everyone else has to keep it deadly secret. It’s that sort of thing, gets people saying that children of these families are brought up knowing how to keep secrets, and understanding that they’re necessary. My parents were never important enough to need to keep those things secret, although I suspect none of my brother’s children are allowed to mention their aunt, but whispers always went around, between the few servants we did have, about secrets of this family, or that family, who were a rung above us.” Minjeong ended on a dramatic note, but then smiled brightly. “Pour the tea out or it’ll get cold. And don’t look so shocked. If his parents are open-minded enough to move to a different country, that Moon boy probably isn’t keeping any really big secrets, he was just raised in a culture of secret keepers.”

“You shouldn’t call him that.” Haneul blurted out, before she could stop herself, remembering what Jae Chan had said weeks ago in the library. 

Minjeong raised an eyebrow.

“He said to me and Amaya that he doesn’t like being called by his last name, because it’s his father’s name.” She explained. “It just popped into my head.

“Well.” Minjeong looked a little thoughtful. “That’s weird. But, if you insist,  _ Jae Chan _ probably isn’t keeping any big secrets.” She smirked. “Funny, that there’s nothing going on, and yet you call him by his first name.” she wriggled her eyebrows as she accepted a mug of ta from Haneul.

“What else am I going to call him? Even if he didn’t mind it, why would I use his last name? You’re reading far too much into all this, Mum, we’re just friends. Boys and girls can be friends, you know.”

“Of course I know.” Minjeong grinned. “I’m teasing you, it’s why you have a mother.” She reached forward and ruffled Haneul’s hair. “Even though you’re becoming all grown-up and serious, and you’re taller than me now, you’ll always have to put up with me being your mother.”

Haneul thought she saw a sort of knowing smile on her mother’s face, but not being learned in Legilimency, was not able to tell what was making her smile in that way. It was a little infuriating, not being able to read her mother, or perhaps it was simply her own thirst for knowledge that made it that way, because this, a person’s thoughts, could not always be known, and usually had to always be guessed and never verified. 

What Haneul could say, after it was over, was that the day was a good day. As always, once the early hours of the morning passed, mostly in conversation, the snow crust was broken as the younger children of the street came from their houses to play amongst the snow, and their undiluted joy could be heard as they marvelled at the white stuff that had never, in most of their memories, laid so thickly upon their little worlds. Haneul herself did not venture out, snow having lost its grandeur after seeing it so much at Hogwarts, as snow fell in the north starting from November. She was, she thought, at a strange point, because she didn’t feel young enough to be one of the children of the Way, but she was not an adult either. Here was home, but it didn’t seem that the people outside it were real home as much anymore.


	23. Ravenclaw versus Slytherin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never put notes at the beginning of the second chapter in the set but... It turns out this chapter is over 7,000 words? I didn't realise it was so long, I thought I didn't make 7k chapters until sixth year! Well, enjoy a chunky 12k words of new From The Sky this week (usually it's only about 8-10k)!

With January came the time for Haneul to reunite with the people who were her home - her friends. She had felt disconnected from them the previous term, but a few weeks away from them had taught her, amongst other things, that she did need them, and that they were precious. Haneul knew well that she couldn’t suddenly open up to them more, but had resolved to spend less time inside her own head, and more time with them, real people. She was not sure if she would be successful, as she knew the period of not having deep thought would end, but she felt better prepared now that her mind naturally closed itself and she felt less disorientated, more able to smoothly pull off secret-keeping.

Early as usual, Cara was the first to arrive, and was already on Platform Nine-and-three-quarters when Haneul arrived, although she was the second. There was no sign of Amaya, trying to crane her neck and see over first-years, or Jae Chan, who was probably taller than some of the seventh-years. It appeared that Ian had come to drop his sister off, because before Cara noticed her, Haneul observed her play-fighting with him, as he tried to throw his cloak over her. She grinned. This was the Cara she knew well - the stubborn, fiercely protective and ever energetic girl who could beat even her much larger brother in a fight. 

“We don’t want any broken noses before we’re even on the train.” Haneul rolled her eyes as she finally got close enough to the siblings to be audible. “Save it for Quidditch.”

Ian and Cara froze, mid-fight, she still gripping his wrist and holding his arm out of reach of her, and turned to face the noise. Cara’s face, which had been moments earlier filled with contempt, broke into a smile, and she and Ian stopped trying to wrestle each other. 

“Good Christmas?” Haneul asked, stifling a laugh.

“Terrible. He was there.” Cara rolled her eyes and jerked a thumb at Ian, but she was still smiling. “Are you the first, as usual? Or has Amaya been mistaken as a second-year?”

“I didn’t see her, I think she’ll be here soon, though. She’s usually only nearly late, not actually late.” 

Cara nodded, and slapped a hand of Ian’s away, which was trying to reach under her chin and tickle it. “Let’s get on and find a compartment.” She raised a hand towards her brother, who made a rude hand gesture, before giving his sister a brief hug. Haneul had already bade her mother goodbye before coming through the barrier onto the platform, so she just returned Ian’s smile and followed Cara, dragging her trunk towards a scarlet carriage. 

As they were boarding, two people appeared directly on the platform. One, clearly the younger, was gripping the elder’s arm, though seemed to let go the moment they had materialised, as if he was keen not to touch the man who had apparated both of them there. The younger then walked away from the other man, without even turning to him, as if he did not exist, and this did not seem to bother the older man, who disapparated only moments after appearing. Haneul only had to squint in the direction of this bizarre, momentary scene to see that the younger, who had remained on the platform, was in fact Jae Chan, who was now striding towards the train, ignoring the few surprised looks he was receiving from bystanders who were alarmed at the less-than-friendly farewell.

Jae Chan was quick to catch up to where Haneul and Cara were, because Cara had also noticed him and they stopped to wait, just inside the train. He raised a hand at them, apparently entirely unfazed by what had just happened, and his easy smile quickly replaced the slightly hardened expression he had worn until then. 

“Hello.” He said, brightly, as he pulled himself up into the carriage, to his full height.

“I didn’t know you could apparate onto the platform itself.” Cara said, though it was clear her wide eyes had nothing to do with revelations about transport.

“I don’t think it’s recommended.” He said simply, walking ahead of Haneul and Cara, searching for an empty compartment. He could walk much faster than them. Neither Haneul nor Cara were short by normal standards, but compared to him, their legs were. He found a compartment very quickly, and was inside it before either of the other two could ask anything.

“Was that your father?” Haneul questioned, once they had sat down.

Jae Chan looked grim and contemptuous, something which didn’t suit his features. “Yes.” He replied, stonily. “He didn’t care to put up with me long enough to walk through a train station, so he decided he would just apparate instead.” Jae Chan glanced out of the window, not looking sad, but perhaps a little tired.

“I’m sorry.” Haneul said, and really did feel that. “We’ll be your dad inst-”

Before she was able to finish the sentence, the compartment door banged open, and a winded looking Amaya burst in, leaning against the frame for support. All three of them looked round at her, Cara smirking. 

“I’m… here…” Amaya panted, closing the door with considerable effort, but then grinning widely. “Who’s dad are we being?” She asked, brightly, depositing herself in a seat next to Cara. 

“Jae Chan’s. Because his can’t appreciate him.” Cara explained.

He smiled appreciatively. “It doesn’t really bother me anymore. He’s not a very nice person, I’ve come to accept that now. My mother is a good person, and I have Jae Hyeon, so that’s enough family for me.”

Haneul nodded, and she understood him more than he could know. 

“I get it.” She smiled at him, hoping to convey more than just words to him. “You can’t really miss something that you’ve never had.”

“And if you ever need any more family, you have all of us now. Unfortunately, we’re not going anywhere.” Amaya chipped in. “So I hope you’re not sick of us.”

“Don’t be stupid.” Cara said. “No one could ever, ever be sick of us. Anyway. You mustn’t get sick of me, what if I die in the next Quidditch match, and you feel terribly guilty for the rest of your life?”

“When is the next match?” Jae Chan asked. “Because, unless you’re playing, I don’t think I’ll go. It was far too rainy last time.” 

“It’s usually not that bad.” Cara reassured him. And Ravenclaw are playing, so you'd better all come.” She looked around at the other three piercingly. “Or else.”

“D’you really think we’d miss it?” Haneul asked, in mock incredulity. “Firstly, you’d probably kill us all, and secondly, the entire house would hate us too, for not showing enough spirit.”

The journey flew by as usual, with talk of the holidays, and how each of them had spent Christmas, as well as a considerable amount of fretting over their upcoming O.W.L exams, which would be sat in the approaching June. All four of them, and indeed every fifth-year had done exams before, only this time they would matter quite a lot more, considering that the O.W.Ls one had would affect which jobs they could get in the future, after leaving Hogwarts.

“What do we even do, when we leave?” Amaya, being muggle-born, had not seen the careers of wizards up-close in the same way that her friends had.

“Most people apply for jobs the summer we get our N.E.W.T results.” Cara replied, predictably prompt. “And then they usually have a job by September. Others might take a month or two, or even a year off, for travelling, or just to take a break, but most people go straight into work.”

“So there’s no more studying?” Amaya asked.

“Not normally.” Haneul explained, although she herself did not know the normal path, knowing that her mother had found her job through Dumbledore. “Some careers, like Aurors, require more study, but that’d be specific to the job, and it’s more like training than school. I’m sure in every job, you need to be told how things work, but Hogwarts is meant to teach you all the magic you need to do most jobs, and you choose your N.E.W.Ts based on what you think you’d like to do anyway.”   


“What are these N.E.W.Ts?” Jae Chan asked, raising an eyebrow as he usually did.

“Exams you take in seventh-year. After we do our O.W.Ls, we can drop more subjects-”

“So I’ll be able to finally drop Potions.” Amaya cut in, looking wistful.

“- And study for two years. Then you take the exams in them. Ian did them, and he says they’re horrible. But you need them, because good jobs want you to have high-grade N.E.W.Ts.”

“I’ve never heard anything good about them.” Haneul agreed. “I mean, it stands for Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests, so they’re not supposed to be easy… But O.W.Ls are supposed to be pretty hellish as well, so I hate to think of what comes after.”

“Yeah, but you do get free periods during N.E.W.T years.” Cara said, fairly. 

“And you can stop doing things you don’t like.” Jae Chan agreed. “I don’t know about any of you, but I think that the day I can stop History of Magic will be a very happy day.”

“Agreed.” Amaya nodded. “I need to drop History of Magic, Potions, and Ancient Runes for sure. And maybe Transfiguration.”

“What’s wrong with Transfiguration?” Haneul asked. “You’re good at it, and Professor McGonagall likes you.”

“It’s just… so much work. It’s probably as interesting as Charms, but it’s so much more theory. And let’s be real. I probably won’t be in a situation where I’ll need to turn my desk into a pig.”

“I don’t know, I think that spell could have uses, one day.” Haneul shrugged, but smirked. 

“Aren’t we in Ravenclaw?” Jae Chan asked, sounding a little surprised. “Isn’t that meant to mean that we’re meant to be really into schoolwork? Transfiguration should be one of our favourite subjects.”

“Ah, yes, you’re right,  _ in theory _ .” Cara leant forward in her seat. “Except we don’t have to be booksmart. You can be like Haneul, and just understand everything that Snape ever says to you, or you can be like me, and you can never get bored of books, or you can be lie Amaya, who has encyclopedic knowledge of whatever she’s interested in, but is very, very lazy, when it comes to other things.” She finished with a smile. “There are different types of clever, and they don’t all involve doing homework like it’s a religion.”

“That was well said.” Jae Chan nodded. “What am I?”

Cara leant back. “I think you’re… people-smart.” She said, casually. “You know how Haneul just  _ understands _ things about moonstone, or counter-jinxes? You just understand people. That’s the feeling I get.”

She was spot on, Haneul thought, and she couldn’t have put it any better herself. It really was a form of intelligence, to understand human feelings and know, instinctively, what to do or how to treat a person. She wasn’t sure that she could understand others in quite the same natural way as Jae Chan - indeed, it was people, rather than facts or principles, that she more frequently failed to grasp, and that was what caused her more strife these days. She couldn’t understand exactly how Cara felt regarding secrecy within the group, although she was sure that with Jae Chan’s mind, she would have been able to much more easily. Was that why he was so good at deflecting suspicion that he was keeping secrets? Because he already knew what people wanted to hear as an excuse, and already knew what worked best to throw people off the scent. Remembering what her mother had said about the culture of secrecy amongst elite families, she wondered if this positive aspect of him was born of tightly woven family histories that had to be kept private from the outer world. 

The castle began to thaw over the first week of term, as the sun began to shine weakly through the clouds, pushing them away and melting the snow and frost that had laid over the school since November. On the first day back, Haneul’s Herbology class arrived at the Herbology greenhouses with waterlogged shoes and wet robes, to the point where Professor Sprout had to to perform a clever charm on all of them that dried out their clothes and shoes before they began the lesson, which was about Screechsnaps. It was not altogether pleasant, as the leafy plants reacted to the slightest touch - and indeed seemed to repulse most touch - but like Charms, the general hubbub was useful if you wanted to have a conversation without other people in the vicinity overhearing it. Jae Chan seemed to be the one particularly aware of this, because he inched a little closer to Haneul halfway through the lesson, whilst Cara and Amaya were distracted trying to wrestle a Screechsnap into a pot, and glanced around briefly, before saying, in a very low voice, 

“Do you need me to cover for you again?” He spoke out of the corner of his mouth, and Haneul followed his gaze to Cara and Amaya, who were not yet looking in their direction. 

Haneul nodded. “I do. I’m sorry. I’m trying to work out a way around it but…” She could not think, even after considerable effort, of something she could use as an excuse for her nearly weekly disappearances. 

“Don’t worry about it.” He said, warmly. “I don’t think you’re up to anything bad. Just tell me when you need me.”

Haneul nodded gratefully, unsure if she would ever be able to express to Jae Chan exactly how helpful he was. She stared, for a moment, at her two other friends, who were still fruitlessly attempting to force their screeching plant into a pot of earth, before a thought suddenly came to mind, as she observed Amaya screaming back at the plant, and Cara letting go of it as she doubled over in laughter.

“When Amaya and you were in the library, writing the Imperius curse essay, what did you tell her?”

Jae Chan raised an eyebrow as he looked up from taking some notes.

“Didn’t she ask where I was?” Haneul explained. 

“Ah, she did. I said you had some very important family business to attend to, and that it was so private that even I did not know what it was. And, so that she wouldn’t ask, I told her that you got very upset when I tried to ask, and that it was probably best that she didn’t mention it at all.” 

Haneul smirked, but more inwardly than outwardly. Jae Chan was spot on when it came to reasoning, although he did not know it.

“I told her that my family keeps their internal affairs very private, and that yours was probably the same, as they are from the same culture, and I think that was enough. She hasn’t been asking you things, has she?” He sounded genuinely concerned, as if he had done something wrong.

Haneul shook her head. “No, she didn’t. I was just curious, because usually she’s inquisitive, like Cara. So I was just curious about what you said to make her not ask anything, for once.”

A smile played at his lips at this, but he didn’t say anything else, because Amaya and Cara, who had finally succeeded at conquering their Screechsnap, had rejoined them, looking distinctly ruffled and worn out, as if they had just gone on a long journey.

“That.” Amaya threw herself into a seat opposite Jae Chan, “Was horrible. This sort of thing shouldn’t be allowed.”

“It wasn’t that bad. Or maybe that’s because I’m used to the noise, from being on the Quidditch team.” Cara shrugged as she sat down, looking a bit less battered than Amaya.

Haneul rolled her eyes. “You’re obsessed with that sport.”

“It’s good!” Cara protested. “Flying is  _ fun _ . Just because you’re not as good on a broomstick, doesn’t make the sport pointless.” She teased, grinning. 

“Hey, she’s not  _ that _ bad on a broomstick. I don’t think she fell off in first-year because she’s  _ bad _ , she’s probably just scared of heights.” Amaya added, which made Cara burst out laughing, and Haneul lunged to playfully smack Amaya, who leant out of the way.

Jae Chan covered his mouth, as if he was trying to remain respectful. 

“Are you actually afraid of heights?” He asked, failing to mask his smile. 

Haneul felt her cheeks redden. “Not much, I probably was a lot more in first-year…” She pursed her lips. “Everyone’s afraid of something.”

“You don’t really seem like the sort of person to be afraid of heights. It doesn’t seem… right.”

“She’s not as hard-headed as she looks.” Amaya warned. “Haneul might seem like she’s never shed a tear in her entire life, but you must have noticed how much she hates Astronomy.”

“I thought she hated it because it’s boring.” Jae Chan said, bluntly. “Because it is boring.”

“What are you afraid of?” Cara asked Jae Chan, leaning forward on the heel of her hand and wriggling her eyebrows. Haneul tried not to look too interested in this, so she only turned her head slowly, and arranged her features into a fairly neutral expression.

He bit his lip thoughtfully. “I’m not sure. Perhaps… something bad happening to Jae Hyeon… And, well,” he went a little pink, “I don’t really like small winged bugs.”

“You mean like… butterflies?” Cara asked, looking surprised. 

“Yes, I suppose butterflies are part of that category.” He fiddled with the edge of his parchment, looking a little embarrassed. 

Amaya smirked. “But you’re… well, if you think Haneul doesn’t seem the type to be afraid of heights, you most definitely are not the type to be afraid of  _ butterflies _ . They’re so tiny, and so delicate, they wouldn’t be able to hurt you.” She looked up at him from her Herbology textbook.

“Yes, I know, but, well, they… flutter around, and they can land on your face…” He shuddered. “I just don’t like them.” Jae Chan looked around at the other three. “You don’t think that’s really lame, do you?”

“It’s not that it’s lame.” Haneul assured him. “Only, if you’re asked your fears in future, and you want to seem cool, you should probably just say you’re afraid of your little brother being hurt, and don’t bring up the butterflies.”

The bell for lunch rang, so they packed up their books and quills and parchment and readied themselves to traipse back across the vegetable patch and the lawns to the castle to eat, and the usual end-of-class buzz ran through the greenhouse as the conversation about heights and butterflies faded into memory, and only thoughts of fear remained with Haneul. Fear was such an intimate thing, perhaps as intimate as memory itself, and yet it was also shameful. Even those not well-known for bravery were always hesitant to admit they felt afraid, and it was seen as a weakening feeling, rather than strengthening. Haneul had no doubt that each of her and her friends were more deeply afraid of something other than butterflies or heights, even if it was subconscious. Yet they would never admit it, and nor would she. Telling people what you were afraid of could give them the chance to make you stronger, happier, yet it was also a powerful weapon to tear someone down, and to break them. That was why people were so unwilling to spill their real, most deep fears to others, Haneul concluded, because they did not want to give away vulnerabilities, as a tool of self-preservation. Lies, she thought, had a knack for being more helpful than honesty, at times.

Honesty, seen as such a virtue, yet as dangerous as lies. Lying had such a poor reputation, yet so many of the lies Haneul had heard had been for good reasons, and had even led to a good outcome. She was lying right now, wasn’t she, but was that bad? No, she didn’t think so. Lying or withholding truth, didn’t need to be such a bad thing. Jae Chan was probably lying when he said the worst fear he could think about was butterflies, but he wasn’t stealing valuable and essential information from anyone. Haneul was lying when she told Cara that nothing was going on in her life, but it was necessary, as far as Snape’s paranoia was concerned. And Cara was lying to her, as well, Haneul could be sure, she had become certain that there was something going on in Cara’s life too, that she hadn’t told anyone. Maybe she had told Amaya, Haneul had always thought they were especially close. Perhaps instead of theorising on where Haneul was spending her time, their hurried whispers had been about something to do with Cara, maybe Cara had not shared her own suspicions with Amaya, or anyone at all. That was certainly a relieving prospect, though perhaps, with rationality, a little too optimistic.

By the time Haneul stopped her boundless train of thought, she found that she was nearly at the castle, and also several feet behind Cara and Amaya, who were talking loudly. f\Jae Chan was walking next to her, not saying a word, only respectfully matching her pace, like he didn’t want her to be left behind inside her own head.

“Is everything alright?” He asked, presumably because he had seen Haneul come back to earth. 

She nodded. “Of course it is, why do you ask?”

“You looked very… distracted. It’s something you do quite often these days, I’ve found.” He said, placidly. “Usually, you disappear, and then when you reappear, you’re still very pensive. But for some reason, you are very pensive even now, after being present.” He paused for a second, a slight smile on his lips. “Does that make sense?”

“Yes. It does.” Haneul tried to smile in what she hoped was a reassuring and lighthearted manner. “I just zoned out, nothing to worry about.” She shrugged. “Happens sometimes.” She looked ahead, at Cara and Amaya, who had stopped and turned around, and were now glaring at the slower two. 

“Oi, hurry up! We’re starving!” Amaya yelled, hands on hips. “You can have moral discussions later, when we’re meant to be doing homework, not when we’re meant to be eating.”

“Who said we’re having a moral discussion?” Haneul asked, walking faster to reach the others.

“You look serious. You’re clearly not talking about something trivial or funny.” Cara pointed out. “It’s probably something us mortals can’t understand, like N.E.W.T Potions.”

Amaya mimed vomiting. “Don’t be stupid. They might be our intellectual superiors, but they’ve not gone crazy. Even Haneul wouldn’t voluntarily study N.E.W.T Potions before sixth year.”

“We are  _ not _ your intellectual superiors.” Haneul argued. “He was telling me off for being too distracted, actually. And no, I wasn’t distracted by Potions. I’m just hungry, aren’t you?” She raised her eyebrows at Amaya and grabbed her wrist. “Let’s go before all the seats are taken by first-years.” 

That had been one of her better cover-ups, Haneul thought. She would much rather her friends assume she was thinking about higher level academics than questioning all she had been told in her life, but recognised that she needed to stop slipping away from the conscious realm so easily and uncontrollably. Whilst no one around her could perform legilimency, which meant her thoughts were usually safe, it did not avert suspicion. Jae Chan was noticing how different she became whenever she returned from conversing with Snape, and could start to put things together, if she wasn’t careful. And what if other people noticed, and she gave everything away? It wasn’t just about closing her mind anymore, it was necessary to act sometimes, too. Pretend to be alert, take interest where it wasn’t necessarily given, so as to appear normal to everyone around her. That was where Snape was lucky, she supposed. He had already created an aura of privacy and slight mystery around himself, so nobody found it odd that he shared nothing or seemed closed off. For Haneul on the other hand, who had been open, or at least seemed that way, withdrawing slightly was strange to her friends, because they had never had secrets before that year. 

“Guess what I heard.” Cara whispered frantically to Haneul, Amaya and Jae Chan as they line up for Potions at the end of the day. 

The three turned their heads in almost perfect unison. 

“I heard some Gryffindor third-years talking about how apparently, Harry Potter got a Firebolt for Christmas.” Cara said, and then paused dramatically. “A  _ Firebolt _ .”

“The broomstick?”Haneul asked. “That is a type of broomstick, right?”

Cara rolled her eyes. “Yes, it’s a type of broomstick. The fastest in the world. Guarantees a win, if you ask me.”

“But we’re not playing Gryffindor this weekend, are we?” Amaya piped up. 

“No, we’re not. We’re playing Slytherin. But it means Gryffindor will probably win all their matches now. And that means they’ll have a better chance of winning the Cup. Before, our only real competition was Slytherin, now Gryffindor’s got a bigger chance too.” 

Cara was not the only one who had heard the Firebolt rumours. The whole line of Slytherins and Ravenclaws that were waiting for Snape was buzzing, presumably with this knowledge. The Slytherins, who had skipped out on playing Gryffindor the previous term, letting Hufflepuff play them instead, were very annoyed, now knowing that they’d be possibly playing a team with the fastest broom in the world, when they could have scored an easy win if they’d not given up last term’s match. 

Snape was also in a particularly bad mood that day, perhaps because the rumours had reached him too, and he was well-known for loathing Gryffindor and being massively preferential towards Slytherins. He stormed around the dungeon classroom, snapping at anyone who made a mistake and taking at least twenty points from Ravenclaw for infractions so small that even Professor McGonagall wouldn’t have noticed them, or would have let them slide. 

“Might I remind you  _ all _ .” He said, softly but nastily, after one of Jae Chan’s dorm-mates had spilt armadillo bile on the floor near the end of the lesson, “that you will, in June, be taking your O.W.Ls, and should you wish to pass them and avoid the consequences of receiving a T, you should  _ not _ be showing such severe incompetence at this point in the year.” He glared at them all as if each of them had contributed personally to his annoyance. “As such, I expect  _ all _ of you to write a footlong essay on the correct way to brew wit-sharpening potion. I only hope it will have the desired effect.”

As she usually did, Amaya opened her mouth, as if to argue, but both Haneul and Cara kicked her under the table, quite sure that Snape would deduct a hundred points from Ravenclaw if she dared to argue. Jae Chan also glared at her, and she hurriedly closed her mouth and looked down at her book as Snape looked over at their table with such malevolence that Haneul was surprised that it did not scorch them all to death.

“You’ve got to control yourself.” Haneul half whispered to Amaya as they finally left the classroom. “We’ll end up losing the house cup, because you’re going to snap one of these days, and yell at him.”

“I wish I  _ could _ yell at him.” Amaya spat, contemptuously. “We’ve already got so much homework, and he gives us a foot on that stupid potion! None of us even did that badly today, he’s probably just bitter about quidditch.” She looked at Cara. “You’d better wipe the floor with Slytherin, on Saturday.”

But unfortunately, neither team could boast of wiping the floor with the other once the chilly match was over. Slytherin won by just ten points, most likely owing to their all-round superior brooms, though, everyone assured the Ravenclaw team, not due to their better skill. It was not entirely crushing, because it had been such a close call, and the spirits in the common room were not altogether downcast, as the three chasers of the team had performed brilliantly. Though it was unlikely that Ravenclaw was set to win the quidditch cup, they all comforted themselves with the reasoning that they would, by chance, win soon, and that perhaps with a different team, next year they would be able to come out victorious. 

Haneul had assumed that Cara and Amaya had both gone up to bed early, most likely because they were disappointed with the results of the match, so she was surprised when she reached the dormitory and found it deserted. This was only odd because she had not seen them in the common room at all, since at least two hours earlier, and thought it would have been strange for them to be commiserating without herself and Jae Chan. They were definitely not in the common room, either, because Haneul went back down to check, first assuring herself that she had simply missed them, and that they would have been caught up with someone else. Haneul herself may not be the most social, but she knew that Amaya especially was happy to start up a full-blown conversation with just about anyone, should the situation arise. She weighed the two options in her head in the slowly clearing common room. Either, she could go to bed, and trust that Cara and Amaya would be back in no time, or she could go and find them, which would at least make certain that they had not found themselves in trouble. 

Haneul chose the second option, because with evaluation, it didn’t seem right to leave two of her closest friends wandering through the castle in times like these. It was most definitely unlikely that Sirius Black had broken in and somehow found the two of them, and done something horrible to them, but nonetheless it was the responsible thing to do to male sure of it. After all, it was nearly curfew, and the two of them were not the type to be out of the common room quite this late. 

They were not in any of the classrooms along the corridor that led to the spiral staircase to the common room’s entrance - though Haneul hardly expected them to be, as there was not likely anything worth seeing inside any of these. She pondered where they might be, as she skirted past the marble busts and suits of armour, and decided that they weren’t in the grounds, because the sky was dark and starry, and it was probably very cold. Even if Cara had gone for a lap of defeat around the quidditch pitch, they would be inside by now, as neither her nor Amaya were stupid enough to stay out past dark in conditions like these.

She had descended to the third floor before she heard anything, but was near a tapestry that concealed the Charms corridor when voices reached her from beyond it.

“We have to go soon, you know that, right?” The first said. “It’s nearly curfew, and we’ll get in trouble if anyone’s patrolling.”

“I wish we didn’t…” The second responded, sounding mournful. “I hate pretending. I wish we didn’t have to hide like this.”

“I do too. But… we talked about this already. It’s got to be like this.” There was a pause, when neither voice spoke.

The voices had a certain familiarity to them, Haneul thought, even whilst muffled by the woven door between them. They spoke with such care for the other, a feeling that even spread warmth through Haneul, although made her pity the two just a few metres away, who had to hide something that seemed pure but still prohibited. 

Her thoughts were interrupted when the second voice spoke again. 

“Is it always going to be like this? Are we always going to have to sneak around?”   


In the pause between this question and the answer of the first person, Haneul did several things. First, that the voice that had just spoken was Amaya’s, second that the other voice, which had spoken first, was Cara’s, and so the two of them must be on the other side of the tapestry. Third, and this was an involuntary movement, Haneul pushed the tapestry aside and stepped into the corridor, and spoke before her brain had completely decided that she should say anything, or even step in on the scene. 

“No, you won’t always have to sneak around.”

If she had been unsure about what exactly was happening between Cara and Amaya before she had stepped into the corridor, it was now plainly obvious to Haneul. Cara and Amaya had frozen on the spot, and making it clear what had happened moments earlier. Amaya was half leaning against the wall, her arm loosely wrapped around Cara’s waist, and had probably been looking up at her just a few seconds before. Her other arm appeared to have been caressing Cara’s cheek, though it hung in mid air as the two had turned to face the intruder. Cara was pressed close to Amaya, her arms around her neck, in what was clearly a lover’s embrace. 

For once, it seemed that neither of them had a single word to say.

“Close your mouths, you look gormless.” Haneul smirked. “When did this happen?”

The two seemed to come back to themselves, and relaxed, though they broke apart, and stood side by side. Amaya grabbed Cara’s hand, almost defiantly, as if daring Haneul to say something about it. 

“In September.” Amaya said, her voice only half shaking. “Don’t say-”

“Do you remember, a few years ago, when Keira called you that horrible word?” Haneul asked Amaya, who was still looking determinedly at her. “And then Violet shouted at her, do you remember what she said? She told her off, because she was being prejudiced, when one of the values of our house is acceptance. Acceptance.” Her black eyes flitted from one to another. 

“Now, I can perfectly well understand why you  _ didn’t _ want to tell me about this, but I’ll tell you now, I’m not angry with you.” This was more of a realisation in herself, because it suddenly seemed quite  _ right _ that Cara and Amaya were going out with each other. 

“Really?” Cara asked. “You’re not angry? You don’t, you don’t think it’s weird, that two girls are together?”

“No, I don’t. I’m not going to be in a relationship with another girl, but it’s not doing anything to me if you two are, is it? I don’t see any point in saying bad things about it. You’re already being forced to keep it a secret and be ashamed of it by other people, there’s no reason for me to add to that mess.” Haneul shrugged. “I don’t see anything wrong with this.”

“But aren’t you at least annoyed that we… well, we could be ruining the friendship group or something?” Amaya asked, still looking nervous, although more relaxed as they had cleared the first hurdle.

“You’ll only be ruining it if you choose to.” Haneul replied, considering that these conclusions were coming to her only moments before they formed as words. “I don’t think you’re stupid enough to cause a massive rift, if things go wrong.”

This was not entirely true. This was in fact one of the primary reasons why Haneul had completely refuted all of Cara’s and her mother’s ideas that there could be anything other than a close but platonic friendship forming between her and Jae Chan. Regardless of whether going out with him would be something she was open to, she would never want to separate the close friendship between the four of them if they ever split up. To her, romance came second to friendship, and she felt personally that it was not worth the drama that was bound to ensue for a few months of fawning over each other. To be fair, she did wonder if her cold outlook on romance had something to do with her inexperience, which led to her supportive, though perhaps slightly dishonest words towards Cara and Amaya. 

“You’re  _ really _ not angry at us?” Cara asked, her blue eyes blinking widely. 

“Really, I’m not.” She assured the two others. An image of the two of them talking rather forcefully to Jae Chan, months earlier, sprang to mind. “Does Jae Chan know about this?”

Amaya shook her head. “No, he doesn’t. Well, we haven’t told him. We haven’t told anyone.” She explained quickly. “We weren’t sure what he would think, just like with you.”

“You think he’d be mean about it?” It was Haneul who arched her eyebrow this time. “He’s much sweeter than I am. He’d probably congratulate you and ask when the wedding is.” She assured them. “Seriously.”

Cara looked a bit unsure, and her eyes found her feet before flitting all around the corridor, an action which Haneul had come to know to be a pensive one, when someone wasn’t sure of an answer. 

“We’ve never told anyone about it. That’s… that’s a bit scary. Trying to tell people, when we don’t exactly know what to say.” She giggled sheepishly. “Maybe it’s easier for him to just walk in on us, that way he can put two and two together on his own.”

“I’m not going to tell him, but I think you should. You don’t want to have to hide things, and if he knew, when it’s just the four of us, you don’t have to hide anything. But it’s your own decision, that’s only what I think.” She tried to meet Cara’s eyes, but couldn’t. “I shouldn’t have just walked in like this, so I’m sorry about that. I can see why you’d not be ready to tell anyone about this yet. Technically, you weren’t ready to tell me.”

“Rather you than someone else.” Amaya said, fairly. “I always knew you’d probably be the first to find out. You’re our best friend.”

Haneul nodded, although these words made a warmth spread through her of the sort that she had not felt since September. Her friends did trust her, and she wasn’t as ostracised from them as she had thought, not as separate and different as she had felt for so long. She had only shifted in her old skin, she had not shed it as much as she thought, and now she was used to it and could feel at one with them again. This, she now knew, was the danger of secrets, and the reason why it was usually best not to keep them, unless it was strictly necessary. 

“Is this why you two have been disappearing?” Haneul asked them, hoping she was not encroaching on territory that she shouldn’t. 

Cara nodded. “Yes. At first, it was just after I had quidditch practice, but…” She tailed off.

“You wanted to spend more time together.” Haneul finished. “That’s why I think you should tell Jae Chan. Then you can spend less time pretending.” 

“We don’t want to hide things.” Amaya explained, looking nervous still, all while gripping Cara’s hand. “But it’s scary. I don’t know if it’s easy to understand, but it’s scary for us. People… people aren’t used to this, to the idea of two girls together. And before they even see us, they just see that, and, well, we worry that perhaps we won’t be ourselves anymore, if people find out. That we’ll only be those girls who like girls instead of boys.”

This idea danced around Haneul’s head for a few moments. 

“I suppose that’s what will happen with stupid people. But Jae Chan isn’t stupid. He’s nice, you know that, and I feel like he’s not the type of person to judge you based on that. Just like me, I don’t think he has any prejudices against someone based on their race, or gender, or sexuality.” A smile played at her lips. “I think that more than anything, he’d be happy. He seems like other people finding some happiness would make him happy too.”

“You probably know him better than either of us.” Amaya agreed.

Cara nodded. “We’ll think about it.”

3 Curfew was approaching quickly, so the three girls hastened to return to Ravenclaw Tower, not exchanging any words as they did so. There was a rift, but there was a certain apprehension lingering between them. It was as if Cara and Amaya were not completely convinced of Haneul’s support, and still felt that she could be angry. This time, Haneul understood this feeling that probably lay within her friends, having recently felt that before, the chance of lies even after there had been apparent truth. Haneul allowed this, and knew that no matter how much she reassured her friends, their comfort would only come when they were ready, and it was unlikely that Haneul could say anything to help them on their way. But the alleviation of one of the difficulties in their friendship was nonetheless a relief, although Haneul thought that it was probably felt more by Amaya and Cara than herself. Truthfully, the secrecy had not bothered her very much, because she had been keeping her own secrets and didn’t feel the need to pry into others’ business. 

The main issue for Haneul was that Cara might expect reciprocation. In their conversation before Christmas, they had ended on the mutual acceptance that they were both hiding things for some reason, and that they would do each other the favour of remaining uninquisitive, as a sort of bargain. But now Haneul would not be able to use the excuse that she was justified in having secrets because Cara did too, and had almost broken the unspoken pact of not asking by intruding on the scene, even if it had been an accident. With hindsight, there were countless other things she could have done to preserve Cara and Amaya’s secret relationship, even up to the very moment before it. She had not been forced to open the curtain, she had not been forced to search for them, indeed, they would have come back on their own, because they had been talking about that at the very moment of exposure. 

But had it  _ really _ been so hard to imagine, and so secret? They had been very obviously sneaking off together for months, and Haneul was sure, guilty as she was about this assertion, that had either Cara or Amaya been male, she would have reached a romantic conclusion much faster, or perhaps even immediately. That was what many people thought about her and Jae Chan, after all. Because they were male and female, people put romantic connotations on their extended time spent together, because that was traditional. The only thing that had really preserved Cara and Amaya’s romance was the fact that they were both girls, and no one was likely to assume they were in a relationship unless it was quite literally shoved in front of their faces. Haneul could not feel surprised about it, now that she had gone through all the little nudges she had received over the last months, but certainly did not feel that she could have predicted this turn without hindsight. 

Jae Chan had already gone up to bed, along with most of Ravenclaw house when haneul reached the common room with Cara and Amaya. For some reason, this felt like a natural moment to separate, only they all had to head to the same dormitory, and could not have, even if each of the three had expressed some desire to do so. They did not exchange many words, other than a good-night greeting, and the quiet dormitory, half-filled with others sleeping, did not invite conversation either. The sun had set over the castle, and now it set over the day, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! You made it to the end! Here's the chapter reflection for these two!  
> https://docs.google.com/document/d/1kBHM6PNP9ACqBDpDKy0B6-Tvi9qaCHRf19i8RN8e42Q/edit?usp=sharing
> 
> P.S: Still working on what to call these docs - my folder for them is called 'Chapter Summaries' but that doesn't quite define them - is 'Chapter Reflections' better?


	24. Hogsmeade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I'll say in the reflections for this chapter, things will be a bit different next week! As Tuesday March 2nd is Haneul's birthday, I'll be releasing one chapter then, and then the next day, on Wednesday (the usual chapter day), I'll put out 2 more! SO three chapters next week! And the end of fifth year too!

The weekend seemed to clear the tension between Haneul and her friends, most likely because all three were aware that they had someone - namely Jae Chan - who would notice if there appeared to be anything wrong between the three of them. Indeed, Cara and Amaya were acting exactly as they had always done, because Jae Chan was oblivious to the romance between them and Haneul supposed that if they had started holding hands or being affectionate all the time, she might have noticed the difference a bit more. By this time, the post-Quidditch blues had also mostly drained from the Ravenclaws, because no Slytherins dared to gloat much longer, after it had been agreed by the whole school that the defeat of Ravenclaw was only down to a stroke of luck benefitting the Slytherin Seeker, and that in general, the Ravenclaw team had performed far better, having scored plenty more goals and saved nearly every one that the Slytherin Chasers had tried to score.

“Anyway.” Jae Chan said brightly, at the breakfast table on Monday morning. “At least Snape won’t try to kill us all now, because his side won.” 

Amaya smacked herself in the forehead and groaned. “I forgot we’ve got Potions today.”

“Cheer up, it’s only a single.” Haneul thumped her on the back. “We’ve got DADA afterwards, that’ll be much better. Lupin said he’s going to let us do another practical lesson, to start preparing for the O.W.L one.”

“I wish I could have my O.W.L practical with Snape.” Amaya said, darkly surveying Cara and Jae Chan, who were sitting opposite her over her porridge.

“Why? So you can claim he’s biased against you and appeal the mark?” Cara asked, eyebrow raised.

“No, so I can hex him and get away with it.” Amaya asserted. “It would be very, very satisfying.”

Haneul snorted. “I don’t think you get to hex your examiners in  _ any _ O.W.L exams.” She said, still grinning as she imagined Amaya venting her frustration with Snape by using every hex, jinx and curse she knew.

Why did she not defend him? Shouldn’t she, because she was, according to her mother, like him? If she and Snape resembled each other in personality, then she should feel a desire to defend the lashes against him so frequently dolled out by Amaya. But she did not feel the pull to try and dismiss Amaya’s clear hatred of this person, although she could not necessarily work out why. It was not that she hated him too - because she hadn’t ever hated him, both as her teacher and as the unknown figure she had labelled ‘father’ for many years before, and it was not that she completely agreed with Amaya either. Was this his paranoia of secrecy impressed upon her to the extent that she would never speak about him so that there was no way anyone could uncover the contents of that diary?

Or perhaps, it was the closed mind she had become used to by now. It scared Haneul more to think of it this way. She did not like to think that closing her mind would also mean she lost emotions, but sometimes feared that it might. Emotion, and feeling, was something that happened in the open mind, most of the time, and depended highly on outward projection. Certainly, one could feel without showing it, but was that really feeling, if nobody knew? She supposed that it was, in a way, and that internal emotions were no less emotional than those shown outwardly. Indeed, it was more worrying to think of how she might lose that inner emotion, unless she somehow learned how to feel without showing it. A small, but nonetheless insistent, part of her had been telling her that through denying emotions in order to keep from showing them, she would lose the ability to feel altogether. Perhaps this unreactive nature at the slander of someone she was supposed to resemble was the first sign of Haneul’s deteriorating ability to feel strongly.

But that could not be it. It could not  _ really _ be Occlumency, she thought, as she tried to engage in conversation with her unknowing friends on the way to Charms. Her mind travelled back to that day like any other, when the diary had landed in her hands and all this deep thought had begun. On that day, on reading her mother’s clear words, she had not felt any shock, and that had been before she even knew Occlumency, before she had ever thought to close her mind. Haneul remembered how her mother had told her that she wasn’t prone to emotional outbursts, and she settled more calmly on the idea that she just didn’t have the natural disposition to flare up and defend or offend anyone, and that she was not losing the innate sense of how to feel. 

The general mood of the class as they waited outside their Charms classroom was fairly high, Haneul thought, considering that this class consisted only of Ravenclaws, and they had just lost a match. Even Keira, who was thoroughly disliked by everyone in her dormitory, was holding court with some girls from the other dormitory and appeared to look fairly goo-spirited. Haneul was inclined to feel light-hearted too, because Jae Chan was teasing Amaya by holding her book out of reach, which was funny owing to how much taller than her he was, and how she kept jumping up to try and grab it whilst he danced out of her way. 

“...Anyway, we weren’t likely to win this time, I knew it all along.” Keira’s loud, and rather obnoxious voice carried over the crowd, but only seemed to reach Haneul, because everyone else was immersed in their own activities. 

“Whittle spends so much time with  _ that girl _ , it’s no wonder the team performed poorly on Saturday.” Haneul watched her survey her subjects with an air of almost regal superiority. “Honestly, the people in my dormitory are quite something. They’re so  _ boring _ sometimes. And the way those three hang around a foreigner, who doesn’t belong here, and they love mudbloods.”

The effect last time Keira had used the slur was immediate, and it was no different this time. The entire class outside of Keira’s circle drew a collective breath of shock, and Jae Chan’s hand, still clutching Amaya’s copy of  _ The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5 _ , was frozen above his head, although the smile had quite dropped from his face.

“Excuse me?” This time, no one needed to come to Amaya’s defence. She had, by now, grown into herself, and become aware enough that her parentage did not affect her superiority, and would most easily stand up for herself. Her face was alive, not with the scrunched-up joy of just seconds ago, but with a dormant rage, something bubbling behind her eyes.

“You heard me.” Keira shot back. She too, was different now, indoctrinated and confident enough to repeat offensive words and not back down at others’ disgust, convinced as she was of her total correctness in the situation.

“Are you calling her scum, because we lost a Quidditch match?” Haneul found her voice from almost nowhere, surprised even at herself, because she was not loud, especially not these days. 

“No, I’m calling her scum, because that’s what she is.” Keira spat, pushing out of her circle. Years ago, she had been taller than Haneul, but now she had overtaken Keira, and Haneul found she could look down her nose at Keira without any effort, a mask of perfect impassiveness, with only the smallest drop of contempt. Keira looked even more small, both physically and atmospherically, when Cara, who was still a little taller than Haneul, and Jae Chan, who already towered above everyone, shouldered their way out of the Keira-opposing throng and stood either side of Haneul, both glaring. Jae Chan looked, Haneul thought, terrifying, because he usually looked so friendly, and smiled easily, though now she supposed that if looks could kill, Keira would already be dead. 

“I am _ not _ scum.” Amaya broke the taut silence. “If you think I am, so be it. But keep that to yourself. We all think you’re pretty horrible, but we don’t bring it up every time we feel insecure, so there’s no reason for you to bring up  _ my _ parents either. I’d rather be a mudblood than you, at least my parents raised me better than yours.”

Cara jabbed Amaya. “Don’t call yourself that!” She frowned. 

“Why shouldn’t I? If it takes away from the severity from her using it, I’d use it happily. I’m  _ proud _ to be muggle-born. I don’t want to give her, or anyone, a reason to try and take that away.”

She was glowing, it seemed, with the renewed pride of standing up for herself. Amaya had always been outspoken, and loud, but Haneul felt a new respect for her after she had finished speaking, and appreciated that part of her even more than she ever had. 

“And,” Amaya continued, her eyes still narrowed at Keira, “don’t call Chan a foreigner. He belongs here, far more than you, I think.”

“Why shouldn’t I call him what he is?” Keira shot back, a triumphant smirk crossing her face, as if she was finding this all to be a fun game. 

“Because it doesn’t matter.” Amaya replied, not backing down. “Who  _ cares _ who’s from a different country? What does it matter? It’s what you’re like as a person that matters, not where you’re from. Chan is friendly, and he’s clever, and he belongs here just as much as those of us who’ve been at Hogwarts since we were eleven.” She looked scathingly around at the whole class, who were frozen in awe. “Anyone who thinks otherwise can stay away from me.”

A general nod spread through most of the class, and they were all glancing at each other in agreement, when a squeaky voice from below them said, quite happily,

“Well said, well said!” 

Professor Flitwick had, unnoticed, come out of the classroom to herd them inside, but because he was so tiny, and everyone’s attention had been on Amaya, nobody had seen him. So, instead, he had waited on the edge of the group to hear what had been happening.

“Now, if you would go inside, and sit down, quietly please.” He said, his tone less excitable this time. 

The class filed in, and Haneul had a sense as if she had recently run a long way, but that it had been an achievement. There was something extremely cathartic about vanquishing an enemy, but there was something even more cathartic about seeing a friend do it when they had just been beaten down. She felt a glow of pride for Amaya, who had, very eloquently, delivered quick blows to Keira’s intolerance, without having to be physically violent at all. Haneul thought she saw that same pride in Jae Chan and Cara too, who looked quite pleased, and definitely in Amaya. She looked very pleased with herself, and did not slouch or look at all diminished as she followed her classmates inside, and in fact looked even more confident than she usually did.

Professor Flitwick took the register of a completely silent class. Whilst sometimes, students would greet him with a ‘hello’ or ‘good morning’, today nobody said anything other than ‘here’. He was certainly small, but by now the Ravenclaws knew when Professor Flitwick wasn’t pleased, and owing to his reputation as a former duelling champion, nobody wanted to become a target of him, even though he was known for being very fair. 

“I need not say that some of the language being used by students in this class is utterly disgusting.” He said, a certain hardness in his voice as he surveyed the class from the stack of books on which he was standing. “Nothing gives any of you the right to use such  _ offensive _ language about  _ anyone _ , least of all your own classmates, who you are meant to value like family.” 

Professor Flitwick took a breath, and then continued. “You are young adults, and I expect far better of you. I very much appreciate that Gulati had her head on straight when she spoke so well on equality, but her actions should not have been necessary. I do not want you to have to turn on each other on the basis of this. Difference in opinion can be tolerated in many cases, but not in so-called blood purity, or nationality. You are being a disgrace to the great Rowena Ravenclaw, whose house you live in every day. We value intelligence, and learning, and acceptance. It is directly against all of those values if you choose to be discriminatory against any member of this school based on something like their parentage. In Hogwarts, we are all equal. I shall not take points from Ravenclaw today, but that is only because members of this class have earned them back through showing their compassion. But I tell you now, with certainty, that any future displays of disgusting behaviour will  _ not _ be tolerated.” His expression relaxed slightly. 

“Now, it is time we begin work, we have Silencing Charms to get through today.”

The aftermath of the lesson and its events lingered over the Ravenclaw fifth-years even after break. It quickly began to spread throughout the year group that Professor Flitwick had shouted at the class from his very own house, and that someone in that class had called someone else a mudblood. At first, the Ravenclaws remained tight-lipped about it, but it got out quite fast that Keira O’Connor had used The Word, and that she had been shouted down by Amaya Gulati and three of her friends. Somewhere in the chain of retelling, her comments about Jae Chan being a foreigner had become lost, but he didn’t seem to mind, and told the three others in private that them standing up for him was more important than scores of people he didn’t know.

“I just  _ hate _ her.” Haneul said, finally, in a corner of the common room at the end of the day. They had not wanted to go to the library, because they couldn’t usually talk in there without getting attacked by the librarian, Madam Pince, with a feather duster. “I thought Violet taught her a lesson three years ago.”

“Stupid people don’t learn.” Cara said, comfortingly. “Everyone will hate her now, except maybe the Slytherins. They’re meant to hate muggle-borns, you know, Heir of Slytherin and all that.”

“Are they really?” Jae Chan asked, presenting his somewhat oblivious curiosity that was a product of his absence from Hogwarts for four years before the others.

Amaya nodded. “Apparently. Last year, there was something attacking muggle-borns, and it was meant to be the monster of Slytherin. Because the founder of Slytherin house hated muggle-borns, and thought they shouldn’t be allowed at Hogwarts.”

Jae Chan looked a little appalled. “Why does that house still exist then, if it promotes discrimination? Is that allowed, even?”

“Tradition.” Haneul replied. “Even though Slytherin the person left the school, the founders kept the four houses, and I suppose that means no headmaster or mistress since has had the guts to change that. Hogwarts has been around for such a long time, nothing could ever really be changed, I don’t think, not something as intrinsic as the houses.”

“But not every Slytherin hates muggle-borns.” Cara added. “Yes, most of the people who do end up in Slytherin, but that’s because of the pure-blood mania. It was traditionally Slytherin families who didn’t want their bloodlines diluted, and so they mixed with other, similar families, and had children who also ended up in Slytherin. People who didn’t care were the ones who mixed with other families, and had children who ended up in other houses. But there are plenty of Slytherins who are nice. They just get their reputation ruined by the fact that You-know-who, and his followers, were in Slytherin too.”

“ _ All _ of them? Every single one ?”

“All the ones they caught.” Cara said, glancing darkly over her book. “Personally, I’d put my money on Keira’s family being supporters that didn’t get caught.”

“Do you really think so?” Jae Chan asked. “Didn’t V- You-know-who and his followers kill loads and loads of people?”

Haneul sighed, and turned a page. “I don’t think so.” She said, not looking up. “Being in with You-know-who was never a status symbol. Plenty of pure-blood families probably think that the Death Eaters had the right ideas, but didn’t join up. I reckon that’s Keira’s family. Because she seems to think that status matters, and I’m sure her family are like that. Plus,” she met Jae Chan’s concerned eyes, “people who were in with You-know-who don’t parade about with bigotry now that he’s gone.”

“So he is really gone?” Jae Chan asked, the concern not leaving his face. 

“Yes.” Cara replied quickly, and Haneul was glad she didn’t have to. She had never been truly sure of this, and over the past few months had become even less sure of it, because of Snape’s paranoia that Voldemort would return, and someone who was gone, was dead, could not return.

If wizardkind could be sure of one thing it was that no spell or potion could reawaken the dead. Magic granted many happy things, brought many conveniences to someone’s life, but could not grant life after death. Some wizards and witches came back as ghosts, others were immortalised in portraits, but that was not living. More than being a mere shadow of their living selves, limited in their actions, ghosts and portraits held no power, could not use magic on other people, and were controlled by the living. Simply having sentience was not having life, because once a heart stopped, there was no reversal possible. So that meant, however little the wizarding world wanted to believe it, that VOldemort was not dead, because if he had the potential to come back, then he lived. Even if it was in the meanest form, about as close to ceasing to exist as someone who was really dead, his situation was reversible, and it scared Haneul more than anything else. Fear was weak, according to some, but she felt the fear to be rational this time, as the possibility of Voldemort’s return was renewed by Jae Chan’s innocent questions. Her mother had not spoken a whole lot about what life under a strong Voldemort had been, and supposed that was only because it had been so terrible to experience that the retelling was reserved for only special circumstances. 

The fear with which older people had spoken about Sirius Black also attested to this. Black, who had allegedly been Voldemort’s closest ally and most precious spy, who could apparently help him to return, was feared by all these days, except perhaps Snape, although, Haneul considered that he probably felt afraid, but was so good at hiding it by now that it hardly mattered how he felt about something, seeing as he never told anyone anyway. But other than him, despite the teachers’ reassurance that everything would be fine, and that the students were safe, whenever Black’s name was mentioned, a flicker of fear crossed everyone’s faces, and denials of fear were always untrue. It was no that nobody was afraid, it was just that nobody wanted to be afraid, because they also shared the belief that fear made someone weak, although Haneul herself had long since discarded this assumption. Nobody could be fearless, and being afraid of one’s own ability to fear was the only thing that made it weak, in her opinion.

Strangely, not many had made the possible connection that Black’s escape could mean the recommencing of the darkest days in recent wizarding history. Haneul had to agree in part with Snape’s scorn at fear of Black, because most people were only afraid of the short-term consequences, that Black would possibly murder them. This was not necessarily a groundless fear, but even so, Haneul had come to agree that the likelihood of being killed by Black was not high. He had killed thirteen, which was not a small sum, but it was such a tiny fraction of the overall population that mathematically, the odds of being his next victim were still low, even if they were much higher than those of being killed by a murderer who had only taken one life. Instead, her fear of Black mainly stemmed from what he could cause in a bigger sense. If he was a powerful dark wizard, Black might rejoin his master and Voldemort might return. THat was more terrifying, because of what Voldemort’s return would mean for the wider world. Black could only reach so far, but Voldemort had already shown once that with legions of followers, he would be able to control far and wide. And if his rise was a second one, surely he would be even more brutal and desperate to cling to power. 

_ Close it, close it _ , Haneul kept telling herself, when these thoughts tried to plant their roots in her mind in the days after the Charms lesson. Worrying would do her no good, she was too powerless, and too compassionate. She had no idea if any of her friends had such a broad scope of the situation as she, and was in no hurry to rudely interrupt their bliss with her honesty. And even though she had grasped that Black’s escape from Azkaban meant more than a few murders, who could she tell that didn’t know? If she had worked it out, so had Dumbledore, and he was probably the most powerful, even amongst the Ministry of Magic. The Ministry probably knew this angle anyway, and were strategically deciding not to make it known, to avoid general hysteria. Regardless of the ethics of lying to an entire population, it was not likely that the people in real government had failed to notice what a fifteen-year-old had. So Haneul was faced with two choices - either to shut out the incessant worrying and musing over Voldemort’s seemingly imminent reunification with his best servant, or to allow herself to fall into the depths of the anguish and let fear consume her to the point that nothing else mattered to her. And whilst this might be a cathartic reaction, it was unimaginably stupid. Nothing could be solved by fearing, perhaps that was why Snape saw fear as so weak, because it rarely solved anything. Furthermore, she did not like to think about what sort of lectures she would be treated to if Snae broke into her mind and saw only fear at the forefront of it, rather than something that he thought was more logical.

Only, that was not what he thought. 

“You have not stopped devoting your thoughts to Black.” Was all he needed to say after a brief, but nonetheless telling trip inside her thoughts in the second week of term. He didn’t say anything about how well she had thrown him out of her thoughts, but Haneul was not dim enough to expect anything like praise. 

“If you want me to stop, you’ll have to capture him yourself. Everyone is afraid.”

“I do not think the capture of Black would alleviate your fear. That is to say that your fear is, at least, rational, this time.”

Haneul suppressed a smirk. “I thought fear was weak?”

“Certain fear is weak.” He corrected himself, months later. “Fear of what can never happen is weak, and idiotic.” Snape elaborated, setting his wand down on the desk behind him, before he turned his eyes back to her. “You do not fear being murdered by Black, as far as I was able to see. You fear Black joining forces with the Dark Lord, and therefore his return to power. That is what the wizarding world  _ ought _ to fear.” He frowned at Haneul slightly, as if she were a representation of the entire wizarding community. 

“Not everyone is blessed with such incredible perceptiveness as you.” She said, sarcastically. “Being afraid of a mass-murderer isn’t that irrational. Some people are afraid of being struck by lightning.”

“The measure of irrationality does not change the fact that it is, indeed, irrational.” He replied, looking annoyed. 

Haneul matched his expression. “Does it matter? Not many people know what Sirius Black  _ actually _ did. Not many people can conceive that You-know-who might come back. They aren’t causing any harm by being afraid of being killed. It means that more people are looking, and capturing Black achieves a good end for me and them, even if we’re afraid for different reasons.”

He seemed, for the first time Haneul had ever seen, a little stumped. Snape was looking at her very intently, as if he was trying to dissect her words through her eyes, like didn’t quite grasp what she was saying to him. Haneul did not look away, because she was not afraid of that look, and was confident in both her position and ability to close her mind to his inquisitive gaze. Maybe this was his hidden anger at being thwarted, perhaps he expected for her to agree with him. They were similar, it was true, but she thought her natural differences that were a product of different lives, upbringings and ages caused this diversion of agreement. 

“You expect too much of people, sometimes.” She stated, breaking the silence, and with it, the gaze shared between them. “Not everyone is logical. Not everyone hides even their least secret emotions below a layer of extraneous and unimportant thought. You can’t blame anyone for not thinking or acting in the same way as you, because, after all, nobody else is you.” She did not ask him if it made sense, because she was sure that he would understand. He was not stupid, even if he was not as in tune with feelings as someone like Jae Chan. 

“I suppose.” Snape replied, as a seemingly sort of compromise. He was not telling her she was wrong, although it was not a complete admittance of her being right, either. It was a start, she thought, because he didn’t really strike her as the kind of person to relent easily, even in a case where the other was most definitely right. 

“It’s a bit hypocritical, really.”

“Hypocritical?”

“You want to change what can’t be changed, and you know it can’t be changed, yet you still think about it more than necessary. But I’m not allowed to fear what I shouldn’t fear?”

“That is different.” Snape replied, sounding annoyed. “Fear is controlling.” 

“Do you think that’s a bad thing, then?” Haneul asked him. “Do you think it’s bad to have fears deep enough to control you? Fear doesn’t always cause people to do bad things, fear makes a lot of people smarter.”

“It is not smart to be controlled by anything such as fear that infests the mind. If you cannot be aware and smart by your own merit, you cannot call yourself intelligent. And once that fear becomes less poignant, it will no longer aid you in sharpening your senses. It is better to be able to defend oneself when detached from fear.”

Haneul wondered if Snape was afraid of being afraid. He could be, seeing as how much he seemed to resent the idea that any kind of fear could be good, and how much he hated so-called irrational fear. Perhaps he was just egotistical, but perhaps he was in fact, very afraid of something irrational, and hated that. Haneul was not sure why that didn’t surprise her, and why, in fact, it seemed to fit perfectly with the blurry picture of his disposition that she had begun to paint over the previous months. Rather than being stoic, she had come to the conclusion that Snape preferred to feel emotions privately, or within his inner mind, something which Haneul herself was beginning to feel more comfortable with. It was probably the safest option, she thought, if everything a person felt had to be a deadly secret. Or maybe, it was just a rejection of weakness. Haneul didn’t think crying, or feeling deeply about something was weak, but she knew that plenty did, and thus hid everything they felt, whether they were just embarrassed of the presence of emotions, or if they feared showing themselves as being vulnerable on occasion would damage their reputation. 

The path back to Ravenclaw tower had become that of deep thought, Haneul mused to herself. If only it was a pensieve, and she could revisit her old self as she walked, peek into the things she had considered weeks ago that she couldn’t remember but probably had relevance to her if she could only recall them. This year, her mind had become crammed. Not only with thoughts swirling around about fear and irrationality, but an increasing load of schoolwork, too. Exams were fast approaching, only a few months away, Haneul realised, and there was hardly a moment that she wasn’t doing homework, or closing her mind. She was so tired, that she would have liked to crawl into bed, but knew that there was Charms and Potions homework to do, and that she would regret it if she didn’t get both done now. 

“Oi! Haneul HANEUL!” 

Haneul whipped around, jolted out of her tired stupor, aware she was on the fifth floor. Two black blurs were fast approaching her, which turned into Amaya and Cara as she shook sleep from her mind and focused on them more carefully. They were both sprinting towards her, hands loosely grasped. 

“What is it?” She asked, smirking. 

“We just… wanted to… find you.” Amaya huffed. 

“We decided.” Cara said, unable to keep the glowing smile from her face. “We’re going to tell Jae Chan. About us. But we wanted to tell you before we did it, because we think that you should be there too.”

Haneul felt her smirk turn into a smile, and serious thought clear from her mind. “Really? That’s great. When are you going to do it?”

“Now.” Amaya stated confidently. “It’s Hogsmeade on the weekend, so we want to tell him before then, so that it wouldn’t be weird if we all went.” She grinned. “Have you seen him?”

“I think he’s probably in the common room. He said something about needing to correct his Defence Against the Dark Arts homework.” Haneul said.

“Perfect.” Cara looked happier than she had all year, and her excitement was infectious. Haneul was glad that she was walking slightly ahead of the other two, because the thought of Jae Chan’s wide, congratulatory smile made something bubble inside of her, and she wished she knew how to wipe the silly smile off her face.

The common room was beginning to clear by the time Haneul, Cara and Amaya reached it. Jae Chan, as predicted, however, was not gone, and was at a table by the window, bent over some parchment. He did not look up until Haneul dropped into the seat next to him, and Cara and Amaya seated themselves opposite. 

“Hello.” He said, his relaxed smile instantly coming to his face.

“We have something to tell you.” Amaya said, not a note of hesitation in her voice. “Well, me and Cara. Not Haneul.”

He leant forward, resting his chin on his hand, and fixing his brown eyes on both of them. Jae Chan’s eyes looked slightly lighter, Haneul thought, the brown less deep, though it may have just been a trick of the light.

“Is everything alright?”

That was typical Jae Chan, Haneul thought. To immediately concern himself with others’ safety, immediately wonder if everything was as it should be.

“Oh, yes, of course it is!” Cara replied, grinning at him. “It’s better than alright, actually.” She blushed. “Well, um…”

“Cara and I are going out.” Amaya finished, brazenly, her eyes alive with something that was a mixture of euphoria and fear.

“Going out?” The phrase seemed to bounce around his mind of a second. “So, you’re a couple?” He glanced at Haneul, silently asking if he had understood the words correctly.

“Yes, that’s right.” Cara looked more wary than Amaya. 

There was perhaps a second, a single momentary pause, before Jae Chan’s wide smile returned. 

“Really? Since when? I didn’t know you two were that good at keeping something a secret.”

Haneul felt the palpable relief surge through Amaya and Cara, and felt it herself. It would have been horrible for her, too, she realised, if Jae Chan had been disgusted. 

“Near the start of the school year.” Amaya admitted. 

Jae Chan looked at Haneul, joyous curiosity written all over his face. “Did you know about this?”

“Not much longer than you. Maybe about a week? They didn’t tell me when it started.” She explained. “They  _ can _ keep their big mouths shut, when they really want to.” She teased. 

“You can’t tell anyone else, alright?” Amaya said seriously, fixing her brown eyes on Jae Chan’s. His definitely looked lighter than hers, but Haneul could not tell if this had always been the case, because she had never stopped to look before then.

“If that’s what you’d prefer, I won’t tell anyone.” He affirmed. “But why wouldn’t you want to?” 

Amaya looked at him as if he had spoken these last words in his native language, which she of course, could not understand.

“Well… We’re two girls. Most people think that’s a bit weird. Or wrong.” 

“Oh. I had never thought about that.” Jae Chan shrugged. “I mean, I know it’s more common for it to be a man and a woman, but… That’s not to say that another type of relationship is  _ wrong _ . Just because it’s not the same as everyone else, doesn’t mean it’s bad. If you two are happy, I am happy.”

Jae Chan had once again demonstrated his nature to be incredibly childlike and yet more mature than so many others around him. At times, indeed like a few moments earlier, Haneul had thought him naive, too trusting and willing to see the good. Yet his reasons, as already laid out, were often so sound, so rational and well-thought. Was this true goodness? The seamless ability to trust and accept and love, but not in a blind way, but like it was an instinct. To only feel doubt where it really existed, and to not feel irrational prejudice in the way that Keira did. 

The outcome of Cara and Amaya’s first controlled reveal of their relationship seemed to return all the last dregs of comfort and warmth that had been missing from the four friends since September. Although all the secrets had not been resolved, it seemed that the uncomfortable tension had broken, all thoughts of negativity gone with the wind that whistled between the towers of Hogwarts. Despite the fact that things were so different in each of their lives, some normality had finally been reached between the four of them. 

So on Saturday morning, they set off into the chilly air, across the still slightly snowy ground, chattering loudly and sights set only on Hogsmeade, which Jae Chan had not yet visited. The village stood below the towering Hogwarts castle, which was situated up on a hill, and could be seen constantly as students walked down to it after exiting the large, high gates. As winter still had a very firm grip over this part of the country, snow still covered the roofs of the houses and shops, making them look iced, the snow there as smooth as had been the blanket over Rowena Way on Christmas Day. But the path into the village was trodden, the snow packed into the ground, slightly greyed by dirt, worn by the natural footsteps of those who came and went from the village. 

“There’s not as many people out today, I don’t think.” Amaya said, as they entered the village. “Or maybe, we’re just a bit earlier.”

“I expect some people have been told to stay back at the castle, seeing as Sirius Black’s probably in the area.” Haneul looked back at Amaya, who was walking close to Cara. their hands weren’t quite grasped, but they seemed to want them to be. 

“And it’s colder.” Jae Chan observed, though his eyes were flitting about the high street, taking it all in for the first time.

It almost felt like being back in third-year. Jae Chan had never seen any part of the village, nor had he heard many tales of it, as nobody in his family had ventured there either. They went to Honeydukes first, to warm up in the syrupy air that seeped into their noses. It was mostly the same as the previous year, Haneul thought, except every shop window had wanted posters of Sirius Black, and notices announcing that the dementors would be patrolling the village during the night. They did not seem to be present now, but the idea that they would pop out after nightfall sent a certain chill through Haneul. Dementors were bad enough in the daytime - but even worse during the night, when natural warmth was already gone from the world. 

The village was certainly emptier than Haneul had remembered it being from her visits the previous two years. Honeydukes was usually jam-packed with students, but they were able to maneuver quite easily around the store, and there wasn’t such a queue at the counter, either. The Three Broomsticks, too, was a little less lively than Haneul remembered, and the four of them easily found a table. By this time, she noticed that Cara and Amaya were now ho;ding hands, though it was under the table, and they seemed very wary, always glancing at the door when it opened to admit a new customer. 

“Stop worrying so much.” Haneul murmured to them, as Cara jerked her head towards the door for the hundredth time. “Nobody’s looking at you. Just relax, and enjoy yourselves.”

“But what if someone we know comes in, and sees us? You two are fine, but if this got out…” Cara tailed off, looking frightened. 

“I wouldn’t have noticed that you’re holding hands if I hadn’t really looked. No one is going to notice from several feet away. Anyway, I’d like to see someone try to bully you about it. They wouldn’t stand a chance.”

Jae Chan nodded. “I can shout very loudly, when I want. I’ll scare bullies away.”

Amaya snorted. “You? The boy who’s scared of butterflies? I respect you, but I don’t know how frightening a person with a fear of  _ butterflies _ can be.”

“They don’t have to know that, you three are the only people here who I’ve told about that. To everyone else. I could be scary.”

“Not a chance.” Cara said, plainly. “You smile at everyone too much. You might be about fifteen feet tall, but just like Hagrid, everyone knows you’re a  _ gentle _ giant. You’d have to like, grow huge fangs or something to really scare people.”

Jae Chan was the one to chuckle this time. “Grow fangs?”

“Well, I don’t know. I can’t really think of  _ anything _ that would make you scary. You’re… too nice to people. Always being considerate and sweet, I think if you tried to act scary, I’d be worried there was something really wrong with you.”

“That’s because you  _ know _ him.” Haneul pointed out. “Imagine, you’ve never spoken to him, and he comes up in your face, asking you why you’ve been bullying someone. If he hadn’t smiled and waved awkwardly the first time I met him, I think I might have been scared of him.”

“I was a bit scared of you, actually.” Jae Chan admitted, but seemed perfectly at home with this idea. “My mother told me that the English are very loud, very judgemental, and also very stoic. So I was worried you would barely talk to me, and only shout when you did, and that if I said something with incorrect grammar, you would think I’m stupid.”

Cara nearly spat out the sip of butterbeer she had just taken. 

“Scared? Of Haneul? Well, okay, maybe I can see that, but… Not really. She might look a bit severe when she’s deep in thought, but I promise you, you just have to poke her and she’ll jump about six feet in the air and scream louder than a banshee.”

The four of them laughed, and it was brilliant. Laughter like this hadn’t been had between them in a long time, not since before Christmas, Haneul thought. But this was what they were meant to be like, enjoying themselves simply by being together, nothing else. Why was it so nice to be made fun of? Was it because things had felt so serious that year, with escaped murderers, memories and occlumency? Haneul thought that maybe, she had forgotten how to be a student, and spent too much time trying to grow beyond her years, too much time considering big and complicated things. Yet she knew also that she shouldn’t try to push those things from her thoughts either, because, after all, that made moments like these so shining, so golden, If she tried to fill her whole life with lighthearted things, soon that would become heavy and burdensome to achieve. It was only natural for her thoughts to become more adult as she entered the space between true childhood and true adulthood, and privately agreed with herself that she had a lot to think about these days, perhaps more than someone of her age should typically have. 

The common room fire felt particularly warm after the four had returned from Hogsmeade later that afternoon. They were not the last back, but not the first, and the place was buzzing with low-level chatter about nothing in particular, mostly homework and things specific to each set of friends. It was snowing, ever so lightly, as if the sky had one last trickle to give before it gave up on winter and began to move into spring, which would be upon the grounds within a month or two. Spring seemed to come at a different time each year, sometimes in late February, other times it happened some way into March. It was not yet clear when it would arrive this year, because whilst the snow seemed to be coming to its end, there was still much icy rain and frost to be had, and there was no telling how long that might last.

As the sun sank in the late afternoon, Haneul could not help but think of dementors. They would be descending over Hogsmeade now, and the residents would have to shut their doors to prevent more than just their hope, but their whole souls. Hogwarts, for whatever reason, felt safe against the dementors, but the idea of being protected only by one’s front door felt terrifying. Of course, many witches and wizards had protective enchantments on their houses, and indeed nobody was very likely to have left them out in the current climate, but it still felt awfully vulnerable. Did wood or brick act as a successful enough shield against the kiss? Dementors did at least have hands, and had been able to enter the train in September. Who was to say that they would respect the Ministry’s rules and stay away from all except Sirius Black? Dumbledore himself had said that dementors couldn’t distinguish between people, because they didn’t have eyes. What really stopped them from sucking the souls of all that came in their path?

There it was again, that weak fear. There it came, encroaching onto Haneul’s mind so stealthy as always, and so irrational. Was it? She didn’t think she could distinguish anymore. 

“Earth to Haneul, Earth to Haneul.” Cara’s slightly knowing, sarcastic tone, pierced through the many layers of possibility that had settled like flower petals inside Haneul’s mind, blowing them away in a single gust, to the outskirts. 

“Yes?” Haneul asked, looking away from the window. 

“What are you doing?” Cara asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Just… overthinking something.” She replied vaguely. “Productively overthinking. Or maybe it’s unproductive. I don’t know.” 

Cara, for some reason, smirked, although Haneul wasn’t sure why she was doing that, or why she looked at Amaya with a certain knowing quality. 

“What?” Haneul asked, a little sharper than she meant to.

“Oh, nothing.” Amaya said, hiding her clearly smirking mouth. “Nothing at all.”


	25. The Disappearance

February arrived at Hogwarts with surprising rapidity, and with it came another Quidditch match. Haneul had, by now, grown to care very little about the sport, but it meant a lot for Ravenclaw, and to Cara, so she was naturally willing to discuss the upcoming match, as was usual by now during the week preceding a Ravenclaw game. Since the previous match had been lost, Ravenclaw needed to win by a large margin to have a good shot at the cup, though spirits were not high amongst the Ravenclaws. The Gryffindor team was known to be good, but hopes were dashed even more on Friday morning, after rumours spread from the Gryffindor table at breakfast that Harry Potter, the team’s Seeker, had indeed been given a Firebolt, and would be using it in the upcoming match.

“We’ve got no chance,” Cara declared, massaging her temples. “I don’t like to be defeatist but we really don’t stand a chance now that Potter’s got a Firebolt. They’re too fast, and he’s too good.” She glanced around, then lowered her voice. “Cho’s a good Seeker, but she’s not as good as Potter. And she definitely won’t be at his standard tomorrow, seeing as she’s riding a Comet two-sixty. We might as well concede the match now.”

“Hey, don’t be like that.” Amaya said, punching Cara playfully on the shoulder. “Score enough goals, and we might win. Even if Potter’s a better Seeker, Ravenclaw has better Chasers.” 

“Yes.” Haneul agreed, though she did not know exactly what Amaya meant. While she could see and understand the intricacies of ingredient ratios in Potions, she knew very little about what made a Chaser better or worse than another.

Jae Chan snorted into his eggs. “You’re funny when you try and understand Quidditch.” He said, grinning. “It’s strange, because you understand everything else so well.”

“It’s not as funny as her pretending to be interested when we talk about it.” Cara interjected, her eye twinkling as it always did when she was affectionately teasing someone. “You’re good at a lot of things, but acting interested is not one of them.”

Haneul smirked. “Maybe it’s not me, maybe it’s that you’re more boring than you think you are.”

“Absolutely not. There’s  _ nothing _ boring about Quidditch.” Cara said, very severely. 

“Well, that’s a matter of opinion, isn’t it?” Haneul replied, rolling her eyes.

The school had begun to buzz with excitement again as Haneul picked her way through the corridors during the day, to go to her various lessons. This was usual on the eve of a match, when even those people who didn’t usually care for the ins and outs of practices became more excited about the imminent event. It seemed that, as usual for Hogwarts, the news of Harry Potter’s Firebolt, had travelled round at breakneck speed and was all anyone - even the Hufflepuffs and Slytherins - could talk about. It was looking less and less favourable for Ravenclaw, as Haneul kept hearing whispers about how good of a broom it was, and how easy it would be for Potter to get the snitch with a broomstick that fast. Slytherin, who still had to play Gryffindor, were amongst the gloomiest of students, as they had been hoping that the rumours would turn out not to be true since before Christmas. These problems didn’t necessarily bother Haneul, but she felt them through the way others talked, and almost felt a sort of obligation to agree with others, even though she wasn’t phased by winning or losing the quidditch cup. She had never been too interested in the sport, and almost every year, Ravenclaw hadn’t stood a chance at winning. Haneul had come to only attending the matches to support Cara, who was more important to her than the game. 

Haneul didn’t have to understand the intricacies of Quidditch to know that, the next day, Ravenclaw put up a valiant fight against the Gryffindor team, and that the Chasers worked hard to try and score as many goals as they could. But it was no use - as most of the school had predicted. Not only were Gryffindor at an advantage with seeking, but their entire team seemed to have gained a new lease on life, and was flying brilliantly. This was, no doubt, due to the fact that they were all so confident in their ability to win. They were playing in good weather, too, a real improvement on their first match against Hufflepuff, which had ended disastrously when the Dementors had come onto the pitch.The sun wasn’t exactly shining, but it was bright, and it wasn’t so cold, spring finally breaking through the clouds that had covered the school since January. 

For a moment, just before the game was inevitably won, it seemed that Ravenclaw would have had a chance to scrape a win, when, as Potter and Cho were streaking towards what the entire crowd could see was a tiny golden blur, three hooded figures appeared on the pitch. It all happened very quickly. Cho screamed, and Harry Potter turned his head, then produced his wand from seemingly nowhere, and roared an incantation at the Dementors, and something silver erupted from his wand. It was not as impressive as Dumbledore, who had shot hordes of silver birds at the swarming masses, but it was nonetheless impressive. Haneul wasn’t sure what animal it was, if Potter’s patronus even was an animal, but it was effective, in a way. Instead of retreating, and shrinking away from the light, the dementors… Fell over. Haneul could not say she was an expert on the creatures, but she knew for a fact that they did not fall over, because Dementors did not run or walk, but glided. Nor did four Slytherin boys emerge from the robes of a real defeated Dementor. 

It transpired that it had all been a cruel joke. Four Slytherins, two of whom were on the Slytherin quidditch team, in an attempt to make Gryffindor lose the match, had dressed up in black, hooded robes to try and cause a repeat of the Gryffindor versus Huffluepuff match. They had, of course, been unsuccessful, for a number of reasons. Firstly, not being real dementors, they had failed to cause the sense of dread and cold inside Harry - or anyone, and secondly, it seemed that one way or another, Potter had found out about the Patronus Charm, and had become good enough at it that Dementors didn’t scare him as much anymore. He had to be given credit, Haneul thought, for keeping a cool head in the face of what he had thought were Dementors, casting a complicated charm, and then also catching the snitch. Even Cara admitted that it was some good flying, and conceded that he did deserve to catch the snitch, after all of that. 

“It’s all over now, anyway.” She said, only a tiny hint of bitterness present in her otherwise light and cheery tone. “We all knew that we wouldn’t win this match, or the cup. We’ve played well this year anyway, seeing how much we beat Hufflepuff in November. Nothing we can do, the season’s over for Ravenclaw.”

“When is the last match?” Jae Chan asked.

“Not until after the Easter holidays.” Amaya said, promptly. “And it’s a good thing you’re not playing, Cara. We’ll be revising for our exams then. O.W.Ls start in June, after all.”

“Don’t talk about that.” Haneul said, raising a hand in dismissal. “I don’t want to hear the word ‘exam’ until after my birthday, thank you very much. Talk about Quidditch instead.”

“Wow, you’re actually asking us to talk about Quidditch?” Cara asked, incredulously. “Have you gone mad?”

“Perhaps.” She shrugged. “Who are we going to support from now?”

“Not Slytherin.” Amaya said, firmly. “They’ve won every year since we started here, I’d like to see someone else win, even if it can’t be us.”

“So, we support Hufflepuff in the next match, and then Gryffindor in the final?” Jae Chan asked, sounding a little unsure, like he was still working out if he was right or not. 

“Exactly.” Cara nodded. “I don’t think Hufflepuff will win. They got a good margin ahead of Gryffindor, but we absolutely wiped the floor with them in November. But maybe, if Slytherin do horribly in that match, and then Gryffindor don’t beat them by much after Easter…” She furrowed her brow, thoughtfully. “I think it’s going to be a Gryffindor or Slytherin victory, this year.”

Nobody was too dowcast about the match’s results, seeing as they had been predicted already, but there certainly wasn’t the celebratory atmosphere in the common room that followed a successful match. Most people just sat and talked about the ‘Dementors’ and how hopefully, Ravenclaw could beat Slytherin in the house cup because the pranksters had been caught by Professor McGonagall, who had probably taken a good chunk of points from Slytherin. There was probably a roaring party going on in Gryffindor tower, Cara mused, having heard all about post-quidditch festivities in Gryffindor from Ian, and the lights in that tower, which were just visible from Ravenclaw, seemed to stay on very late, and were still bright when Haneul, Cara and Amaya went up to bed.

“I expect old McGonagall will shout at them to pack it in soon.” Amaya yawned, stretching before she got into bed. 

“Maybe she’ll take some points from Gryffindor.” Olivia suggested. 

“Not a chance.” Haneul disagreed. “She’s the biggest quidditch fanatic in the school. She might even join the celebrations, you never know.”

“You  _ have _ gone mad.” Cara said, decisively. “You must be tired, you’ll probably be back to your senses in the morning.”

Even when the sun rose the next morning, it was clear that something was different. Haneul could feel it, and she thought everyone else could feel it too - something was hanging in the air that made it quite clear that, overnight, something had gone wrong. When the students began to trickle into the common room, they found something that they had only ever witnessed a few times before - Professor Flitwick was standing in the middle of the room. The last time this had happened had been the previous year, when the Chamber of Secrets was opened, and people were being attacked. He said nothing at first, just gestured for everyone who arrived to sit down. Jae Chan was already there when Haneul, Cara and Amaya arrived, but only shrugged at questioning looks from the three of them. 

“We’ve not been here long.” He gestured to the others from his dormitory. “Flitwick won’t tell us anything. Just said we should sit down, and that he needs to talk to us when most of the house is up. Nobody has been able to leave yet.”

“Something really bad must have happened.” Haneul felt a shudder go through her as she recalled the memories of panic from the previous year, when there had been a monster roaming the castle. “Flitwick never comes in here, unless there’s something really serious.”

They only had to wait about ten minutes for some answers. By then, it seemed that the majority of the house had either woken up, or had been roused by other members of the house, as everyone wanted to be able to get on with their day.

“Ravenclaw.” As he had the previous year, Professor Flitwick had dropped his usual bright tone, and sounded serious, and had a dark look on his face. There was no doubt among anyone that the situation was nothing good.

“I’m afraid that last night, Sirius Black broke into the castle yet again. He made his way as far as Gryffindor Tower, before he was discovered. He actually got into the tower this time, there was a further security breach, owing to some rather, well, careless behaviour, by a student.”

Suddenly, all eyes were away from Professor Flitwick, and instead began to glance around at their fellows, all asking the most important question.   


“Was Black caught?” Cara asked, though she did not sound like she necessarily wanted to know the answer. 

Flitwick sighed. “No. He was not. By the time the students in Gryffindor tower were able to raise the alarm, he had gone. The entire castle was searched, but nothing was found. We don’t even know how he got in, I’m sorry to say.”

“What?” Amaya muttered in Haneul’s ear. “How can they not know that? Is that meant to be reassuring?”

“No idea.” She replied, in a low voice. It did not matter if Sirius Black clearly had no aim towards her, the fact that Hogwarts’ security could be breached was unsettling enough. “Perhaps we’re just not allowed to know, because they don’t want the ways of breaking into Hogwarts becoming public information.” This was more of a reassurance to herself, than anyone else, and more of a desperate straw to hold onto, than a real supposition. 

“I understand that this is worrying for you all.” Flitwick continued, slightly louder to cut through the whispers that had broken out. “Indeed, it is frightening for all of us to think that there may be some way to enter the castle without detection. But I must ask you all not to panic too much. You are safe. It appears that if he is seen, even for a moment, if there is any miniscule risk of him being apprehended, Black will make himself scarce very quickly. Your best option is to remain vigilant, and to follow all the rules and security measures that we have taken, for your safety. I recommend that you all spend as much time in here rather than wandering the corridors, even if it is not out-of-hours. You are all lucky. If it is true, and Black is mad, it is unlikely that he would be able to answer a question posed to him by the door-knocker.”

“Like that’s any  _ real _ comfort.” Cara grumbled as they finally made their way down for breakfast. “He worked out how to escape Azkaban, and break into this castle, he can work out logic questions that first-years can do.”

“Either that, or he’ll know some spell to override it and blast the door open.” Haneul added, thoughtfully. “I don’t think Flitwick really thinks we’ll all stop being worried as soon as he tells us to, but he’s got to try and calm us down, hasn’t he? Especially the younger students. They might even believe him.”

As was customary with Hogwarts, the true story came out over breakfast, as Gryffindors started to pass the story around, and the other houses picked it up from siblings or friends they had there. A third-year, called Ron Weasley, who was coincidentally Harry Potter’s sidekick, had been the one to discover Black. 

“So, he was just sleeping,” Amaya recounted, after eavesdropping on a couple of fourth-years, “Then he woke up, and there was Black, standing over him with a knife. And then, all of a sudden, he was gone.”

“How can we be sure it was  _ actually _ Sirius?” Jae Chan asked. “Maybe he was dreaming, or hallucinating, because he was already worried about the possibility of Black coming back. He tried to get into Gryffindor Tower already, remember.”

“I thought of that, but it’s not true.” Haneul interjected. “I heard Penelope Clearwater telling her friends. It was definitely Black, because the portrait guarding Gryffindor Tower confirmed it. Apparently, some idiot had written down all the passwords, and then lost the bit of parchment, which Black must have found. Black just gave all those passwords to the portrait, and he was let in.” She explained. “And it’s definitely true. Penelope’s going out with Percy Weasley, and he’s Head Boy. He wouldn’t lie about it.” 

“So, everyone in Gryffindor is an idiot.” Cara stated. “Not that I didn’t know that, I do have Ian for a brother.”

At least this time, the staff reacted more appropriately to the danger, Haneul thought. The previous year, despite the aggressor being actually present in the castle, there had been almost nothing done to secure the students, but this time, it was clear that things were happening to try and prevent any further break-ins. Professor Flitwick was enchanting the doors to recognise Sirius Black as they left the hall from breakfast, and it was rumoured, then confirmed, that the portrait who had let Black in, who turned out to be a weak knight from North Tower, was replaced by the old guard, and fortified with security trolls. Filch, the caretaker, had taken to boarding up every crack and crevice around the castle, as if somehow Black was getting in through a mousetrap, and that everyone was in imminent danger from cracking paint on the walls in the Transfiguration department. The student body, too, had become noticeably more tense overnight, and Haneul felt the old fear come back to her that she hadn’t felt since Halloween. 

The other thing that had arisen due to the recent break-in was renewed interest amongst Haneul and her friends about the real reasoning behind Sirius Black’s desire to get into the castle. It was quite clear that he did not just want to go on a rampaging murder spree, because he had, on both occasions, made Gryffindor tower the target of his intrusions. 

“I still think he’s after Potter.” Haneul said, firmly, as the four of them abandoned their Charms homework to ponder over the situation, two days after the break-in. It was still fresh in their minds, as that morning, the Gryffindor boy who’d been responsible in part for Black’s ease of access to the tower had received a Howler from a very disappointed and angry family member. “That’s twice now, that he’s gone to Gryffindor, and he even got as far as Potter’s dormitory. I can’t think of anyone else who fits.”

“I’m starting to agree with you.” Amaya nodded, although she had previously rebuked this idea. “I mean, it really does seem targeted now. We could explain away his going to Gryffindor in October, perhaps it could have been a mistake then…”

“But he went back.” Jae Chan finished, dotting an i. “And he would not go back to somewhere that he could not get to last time, unless he was determined to get in. And there is nothing special about that dormitory either.” 

“Maybe it was just random.” Cara offered. “If he’s mad, he might not know his way around, but he remembered the way to Gryffindor tower, and so he went back. And maybe that dormitory was the first he came across.”

“Don’t be stupid.” Haneul rolled her eyes. “I think he’s mad too, but I think it’s not the kind of madness that makes you forget everything. He’s mad to the point of focusing on just one thing, he’s obsessed with doing it, and that thing is killing Potter.” She sat back in her chair. 

“I agree.” Jae Chan said. “It makes sense.”

Cara blinked. “But, well,  _ how _ ? I get it, Potter’s more special than any of us when it comes to relevance in magical history, but why would  _ he _ be the target?”

“Because, like I think I already said, Potter vanquished You-know-who. He’s the natural enemy of all Death Eaters. They want him dead, and for one or both of two reasons. Either because they believe that if Potter dies, it’ll mean You-know-who can come back, that it might reverse whatever happened in 1981, or for revenge. Potter got rid of Sirius Black’s master, and made him lose everything. If it were me, and I’d spent twelve years in prison, I think one of the first things I’d want when I escaped was revenge. And Potter seems the easiest target.”

Haneul didn’t mention what she knew about Sirius’ other crime, how he had fed Voldemort the Potters’ location, expecting to be rewarded and honoured, but his tip leading to Voldemort’s downfall, but thought she made a convincing case nonetheless. Cara didn’t look unconvinced so much as afraid, and Haneul thought she might have scared her with talk about You-know-who’s return. She suspected that Cara’s parents, who hated dark magic more than anything, had probably been more vocal about life under a powerful Voldemort than her own mother had, which meant Cara, uniquely, had a better idea of what it might be like for Voldemort to return, and thus was more afraid of it than her friends. It was true tharr Amaya had not even known about Voldemort until she arrived at Hogwarts, and had only read about it in books. Jae Chan may have heard of VOldemort, if his infamy had stretched that far, but his parents had no first-hand experience and could never really communicate to him what it was like. Haneul knew her mother had sheltered her from this information, despite being somewhat involved in the anti-Voldemort movement when Haneul had been very little, and she was sure that was why she did not feel as afraid of Voldemort’s allegedly imminent return as Snape thought she ought to. 

“Will he  _ really _ come back?” Cara asked, sounding far more timid than she usually did. “Everyone’s been saying that Black wants to help You-know-who return, but could he really do it?”

Haneul wouldn’t lie. She couldn’t lie, not in this situation, when it clearly meant so much to Cara.

“I don’t know, but I think so.” She met Cara’s blue eyes. “From everything I understand, it’s not impossible for him to come back. But it’s going to be fine.”

“Is it, though? My parents told me all these things that happened when You-know-who was powerful. People went missing, got killed, lost their families, friends, anyone special to them, if they resisted, but life wasn’t much better if you didn’t resist. Everyone’ll say it’s fine for me, because I’m a pure-blood, but your blood meant nothing if you were against his views. I’m not going to adhere to his views, but… It’s still scary to think about resisting.”

“I think you have to accept that it is frightening, but that it will happen.” Jae Chan said, softly. “I don’t know much about this, but, with frightening things, you have to accept that they will come. Preparing for it, understanding it, will make it easier to face. It’s like when it rains. If it comes and you are unprepared, it is cold, and unpleasant. But if you prepare, because you see the clouds approaching, you can get an umbrella. You might still get cold, and it might not be fun, but it will be easier.”

Cara smiled weakly. “So I need to get an umbrella?”

“In a manner of speaking, yes.” Jae Chan smiled at her. “I think your worries are more serious than rain but… as a metaphor, I think it works.”

Haneul rolled her eyes. “This school really is stupid, thinking you’d need someone to translate for you.”

“What do you mean?” He asked, and his innocent naivety nearly made Haneul laugh bitterly. 

“McGonagall was worried you wouldn’t speak English well enough.” She replied, not able to hide the contempt from her voice. “I can understand that, to a degree, but your mother said you could, didn’t she? And the school just ignored it. It’s stupid, because you’re out here using metaphors and probably talking with better grammar than most people here.”

He shrugged. “The boys in my dormitory said that I’m too formal. That I don’t say anything technically wrong, but I sound much older than I am, or like I am trying to sound posh.” 

“You’re not  _ that _ formal.” Amaya said. “You used to be more formal than you are now.” She shrugged. “Racism isn’t new. I don’t know what anyone expected. Wizards are great, but they are, sometimes, a bit stuck in the dark ages. It seems that when it comes to racism, it’s the same.”

“Racism?” Haneul turned the word over in her mouth, sure she had heard it before but not entirely sure that she understood it completely. 

“Maybe it’s not such a hot topic here, but for muggles, it is. It means discriminating against someone because they’re from another country, or culture.” Amaya explained. “I suppose because what blood you have isn’t a thing for muggles, racism is more common, and it’s a lot more talked about.”

“I’ve never heard of that.” Jae Chan said. “But, in Korea, I never knew anyone who wasn’t from there.”

“It can be kind of… covert, like people just assuming Chan won’t speak good English, because he doesn’t ‘look’ English, but it can be violent. My mother said people used to shout things at her in the streets, because she’s not white, and people can get killed for it, too.” 

“People  _ kill _ each other? For what? Being from somewhere different?” Cara asked, looking disgusted.

“It’s about looking different, too.” Amaya said, solemnly. “I know that none of us care, but, you know, I look different from lots of the students here. So do Haneul and Chan. And some people, for some stupid reason, don’t like that. It’s like all the prejudice against muggle borns. There’s absolutely no reason for it, but it still happens, and it costs lives.” She sighed, then smiled bitterly. “I always thought that the wizarding world had at least avoided having problems with racism, even if they have their own version of it for something else, but I think I’m wrong.”

“I think,” Cara said, darkly, “that people like Keira, people who don’t like muggle borns, are probably racist too. They just hate muggle borns more, so they don't say racist things as much.”

“Oh, Keira is racist.” Amaya said, a little more loudly than before. “She called Chan a foreigner, and said he didn’t belong here. That’s a perfect example of racism.”

Amaya had probably been deliberate in talking louder, because Keira was sitting on the next table, alone, and looked up at the sound of her name. She looked confused, however, and it seemed that just as how Haneul had found the word unfamiliar, she did not know exactly what Amaya meant, though she knew that it was not a flattering term. 

“Oh, speak English, mudblood.” She muttered, which predictably made Cara whip around in her seat. 

“Don’t use that word.” Cara snapped. 

“So your little friend can use her weird insults for me, but I can’t use mine?”

“Calling you a racist isn’t the same as you calling her a- well, a you-know-what.” It didn’t really matter that she wasn’t using the slur in an offensive way, Haneul still felt that she shouldn’t say it. “That word is designed to be offensive and derogatory. Racist is just… a description.”

“Mudblood is a description.” Keira said.

“Yes, but nobody is affected by whether Amaya is muggle born or not.” Jae Chan never sounded anything except calm, and peaceful, but there was a slight edge to his voice. “It doesn’t matter. So there is no need to comment on it all the time, and no need to use offensive words about it. On the other hand, being racist  _ does _ affect other people, and it is not designed to be offensive, it just describes offensive behaviour.” His lips twitched. “And clearly, you are not offended by being called racist, otherwise you would deny it.”

“I can’t deny being something if I don’t know what it is, you idiot.” Keira scoffed. 

“It means you treat people differently because of the colour of their skin.” Amaya said, shortly. “Or because of what country they come from.” She stood up, which was not an incredible addition to her height. “But you’re too dim to understand why that’s wrong, aren’t you?” 

Keira, it appeared, did not have any words to say, and looked back down at her work. Haneul couldn’t be sure if this happened in shame, or because she simply didn’t know what to say as rebuttal. She couldn’t think of any reasons to justify Keira’s beliefs, and was sure that Keira also didn’t have anything really solid to back herself up, but would not abandon her views, out of pride. It took a great deal of strength to admit that you were wrong, Haneul knew. 

Keira did not come up to the dormitory until much later, and did not speak to any of the other girls. This was not necessarily a rare occurrence, as the other five girls had long since stopped talking to her, and she did at least know that she was merely tolerated by them, not liked. There wasn’t much conversation between the others, either. Along with the stress of Sirius Black, the teachers had been giving out even more homework, because O.W.Ls were approaching, and everyone was a lot more tired these days.

Haneul thought again about the conversation they had had about Voldemort. She wondered how Keira felt about that. It was true that she certainly aligned with Voldemort’s beliefs, but she couldn’t be sure that she would be happy if Voldemort returned. Or maybe she would. Maybe underneath her schoolgirl exterior, Keira hid a mind of murder, that not only hated muggle-borns, but wanted them dead, would support any evil dictators who wanted to purge them from society. Maybe, she would want to join the ranks of Voldemort, and secretly admired Sirius Black for his treachery, if she knew the full extent of it. Haneul knew that whilst Keira may not have any qualms about voicing her opinions on muggle-borns, she wouldn’t outright declare herself a supporter of Voldemort. Nobody did, after all. 

Snape had once supported Voldemort. He had been in agreement enough to join the Death Eaters, hadn’t he? It was difficult to imagine. Certainly, Snape fit the profile of the sort you might suspect of dark magic, and he was not necessarily the world’s kindest, but to imagine him in direct discrimination, like Keira, or worse, was hard. He had defected, had left the Death Eaters, though, and that was some comfort. For whatever reason, whatever was hidden in that space between the two memories, he had decided to turn away. He at least had the capacity somewhere within him to see error in his beliefs, even if he had held them. Or did he still hold them? Maybe it was only hard to think of him being prejudiced because Snape was so good at hiding everything he ever felt. But that wasn’t true. He had, for one irrelevant reason or another, shown very clear hatred for Haneul all those years ago. It was not strange to imagine him in contempt of another, but it was strange to imagine him like Keira, in blind hatred of a whole group of people for no given reason. It didn’t fit him, even if he did sweep about the castle in black. 

What would make someone change their views so drastically? Leaving the Death Eaters was like signing your own death warrant, wasn’t it? There had to be a really powerful reason, something so powerful that it would cause someone as apparently impassive and unfeeling as Snape to risk death. He did not seem the type to fling himself into death’s waiting arms, and had certainly prevented himself from being killed these many past years. Or maybe, he felt as deeply as anyone else, but hid everything. Yes, it was stupid to think of the occlumens as unfeeling. The occlumens could feel whatever they wished, for they knew nobody would find out what it was that they felt. So really, despite it being a branch of magic that restricted access, Haneul thought that occlumency could be rather freeing. After all, if you could employ Occlumency effectively, you never had to worry about your feelings being discovered by the intruding legilimens. 

Though truthfully, so many people were blissfully unaware of Occlumency that they felt as they wanted and didn’t realise that their minds could be broken into. Safety lay in the simple fact that most people could not perform legilimency, and would never learn it either, and so the average person did not need to worry about knowing how to protect their thoughts. Even so, most people’s thoughts were probably not dangerous if revealed, Haneul supposed. Yes, everyone kept secrets, but most people didn’t want their inner feelings revealed because they were embarrassed of them, not because they were worried someone could get killed or badly hurt. It was mostly selfish, the idea of a private mind. Haneul too, participated in this selfish idea. The ability to block anyone from seeing her thoughts and feelings gave her personal comfort not just because she was apparently protecting someone else’s secret, and their life, but because she was keeping herself safe, too. No, she did not want anyone to know the reasons for her weekly disappearances, and it was on a personal level now. She thought, as the last moments of wakefulness faded, that it would be very hard to tell anyone all of these things, if she ever had to.

Over the next few days, a strange feeling of exposure hung over the castle. Haneul thought this was the natural aftermath of the break-in, and that it would take some time for everyone, especially Gryffindors, to feel secure again, despite the constant assurance that the castle was safe and had been further fortified. The teachers seemed to reflect this feeling, as all of them seemed slightly more on edge than usual, and it was undeniable that they, despite parroting the same line about how strong the new security was, that they were not immune to fear. Either Snape had decided not to press the issue, because he knew there was no point in it, or he too had conceded to the previously irrational fear of Black, because he did not chastise Haneil for what she assumed was a clear rise in her own anxiety about the subject. Perhaps she was less afraid of being murdered, but she still refused to lie to anyone and say that she didn’t fear Black if he did come across her. 

I again surprised Haneul that nobody was theorising about why Black had targeted Hogwarts. She, Cara, Amaya and Jae Chan had now unanimously agreed that Black was probably trying to kill Harry Potter, though Cara had taken a little more convincing, but barely anyone else seemed to be wondering about this. In Herbology, in the first week of March, Haneul overheard some Gryffindors, who had indeed been in the tower when it was broken into, still going over how it was possible for Black to have entered. It was a worthwhile thing to worry about, she supposed, but it did not seem to stop him from getting in. After all, Black had made it in twice, and nothing that anyone had suggested thus far had been able to stop him. Somehow, he was able to get past the dementors, and if he could do that, he could probably do anything. 

“I bet it’s Dark magic.” Cara whispered in Ancient Runes, later the same day, when Haneul mentioned this. “Dementors are dark creatures. Maybe, Black can do some sort of dark magic that’s so bad, even dementors can’t stand it.”

“That can’t be right. The only thing that can defeat a Dementor is a patronus. Hope. You have to counteract the hope-sucking power.” Amaya shot back. 

“The patronus is the only thing that we’re  _ taught _ .” Cara corrected her, and Jae Chan abandoned listening to Professor Babbling to lean in and hear the conversation. “There are types of magic they can’t teach us, I’m sure.”

“Do you think so?” Jae Chan asked.

“Definitely.” Haneul put down her quill. “Dumbledore hates dark magic. He probably stopped a lot of the more dodgy stuff from being taught.” She narrowed her eyes. “I don’t know if any kinds of dark magic can defeat a dementor, but if there is something that can, Black  _ definitely _ knows it.”

As March wore on, the weather got slowly better and any last frost melted away. There was little new that happened over that month, as the ‘after Christmas’ feeling had quite disappeared, and nobody seemed in the mood of provoking anyone into a fight just at that moment either. The biggest event after Black’s break-in was that the Hippogriff of the Care of Magical Creatures teacher, Hagrid, got sentenced to death. Amaya did take the subject, and reported that Hagrid had seemed very down, but it took a few days to discover the story. It had started back in September, apparently, after the Hippogriff had injured a student during a lesson, and the student’s father had happened to ve the meddling type who would do anything possible to avenge even the slightest of wrongs done to his son, who was probably atop a pedestal in his eyes. 

“It’s that third-year, the one who called everyone mudbloods last year. He’s called Malfoy.” Amaya explained. “Or so I’ve heard.”

Cara scowled, and Haneul matched her. 

“What’s the matter?” Amaya asked, turning around. They were strolling through the grounds, it being a Saturday when there was, for once, not as much work to do. 

“The Malfoys are like Keira’s family, probably.” Haneul said, contemptuously. “My mum has talked about them. Obsessed with being pure-blood, and they were actually involved with You-know-who. Only Lucius Malfoy, that must be the boy’s father, pretended he’d been under the imperius curse. Well, obviously nobody can prove he was just pretending, because he’s not in Azkaban. But, you know.” She gestured at the unspoken treachery of the Malfoy family.

“Makes sense why they’re going after Hagrid, then.” Amaya shook her head. “He can’t have done anything deliberately. I know he’s massive, but Cara could do more damage to me than him. He wouldn’t hurt a fly, not willingly.”

"Some people are just bad.” Cara said, flatly. “They just can’t be bothered to be decent, and get some sick enjoyment from making other people upset, probably to make themselves feel better.”

“Does the Ministry of Magic not try and find out if people are lying about being under the imperius curse?” Jae Chan asked, sounding as if his thoughts had only just caught up with the rest of them.

“No.” A memory sidled its way into Haneul’s mind. “Snape told us, in that Imperius Curse lesson. Veritaserum and Legilimency could be used, but they aren’t.” 

“So people like Malfoy, and probably loads more, get away with being on You-know-who’s side.”

“If so many people get away with it, how come the Ministry kept letting it be used as an excuse?” Amaya asked. “That sounds kind of stupid.”

“Because some people really  _ did _ get put under the imperius curse.” Cara explained. “You-know-who couldn’t get everyone who he wanted on his side, so some of the people he just forced to come over by bewitching them. And the Ministry has to pardon legitimate cases.”

“Well.” Jae Chan smirked. “I suppose you’ll be able to change everything up, when you become Minister for Magic.”

Cara rolled her eyes. “Steady on, I haven’t even got my O.W.Ls yet. I’m not going to be joining the Ministry just yet.”

“What  _ do _ wizards do after they leave school?” Amaya asked. 

“What do muggles do?” Cara asked back. 

“They go to university. It’s like another type of school, only you just do one subject, and it takes three years. Then once you graduate, you get a job.”

“There’s none of that.” Haneul replied. “You get a job as soon as you’ve left Hogwarts, most people work in the Ministry of Magic, but you can also work for Gringotts, the bank, or at St. Mungo’s, the hospital.” 

“You could work for a business or something, as well.” Cara cut in. “My mum works at a quill shop, and my dad’s an Auror.”

“Aurors are the dark wizard catchers, right?” Jae Chan asked.

Cara nodded. “That’s right. He’s been doing it since he left Hogwarts.”

“Is that like the police?” Amaya asked, but was only greeted by confused expressions from the other three. 

“Police. They catch criminals.” 

“Well, Aurors don’t catch  _ all _ criminals. There are loads of different offices in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and they deal with different sorts of breaches of Magical Law, I think.” 

“What do your parents do, Amaya?” Jae Chan asked. “Do muggles have similar jobs to wizards?” 

“I think some things are similar, you know, law enforcement, government administration. But my dad’s a builder. I’ve never heard of a builder in the magical world. And my Mum’s a teacher, but she teaches music.”

“A  _ builder _ ?” Jae Chan repeated.

“Yes.” Amaya nodded. “He has a little company, and they do building works and refurbishments on people’s houses. Like, painting the outside, or re-doing the structure of a room, something like that. I don’t exactly understand all the ins and outs of it, but that’s what he does.”

“Does he build, like, houses?” Cara asked.

“Sometimes. When I went home for Christmas, he was telling me about how he had re-built someone’s house. They had knocked it all down, except for the front, and him and his colleagues re-built it.”

“Without magic?” Jae Chan asked, looking dumbfounded.

“Yes, without magic, of course without magic. He’s not a wizard.” Amaya rolled her eyes. 

Jae Chan’s eyes widened. “He must be a  _ genius _ . No wonder you’re in Ravenclaw.”

Amaya snorted. “Muggles don’t consider builders to be the cleverest of people. To them, doctors and lawyers are the smartest. But I think you’re right. I mean, unless there’s a house-creating spell, I wouldn’t know how to build a house.”

“I don’t think I could do it.” Jae Chan agreed. 

“We know who definitely couldn’t.” Cara l=cut in, seriously. “Haneul. I assume you have to go up quite high, to build a house.”

Amaya shrieked with laughter, and Haneul felt her own lips twitch too. Cara wasn’t always flawless with her jokes, but that one was rather good. Soon, they were all laughing, and unwelcome worry was gone on the spring breeze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some important themes in this chapter, I think.
> 
> Enjoy: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1V0iGqjJkX9DkOhPwS0Vrp2ul8qLN_i8dr2XeOal8aUI/edit?usp=sharing


	26. Freedom of Her

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the bonus chapter! I hope you enjoy it. I've written a reflection, you can find it at the bottom.

As March became April, the fifth and seventh years at Hogwarts began to worry for a reason that was entirely unrelated to Sirius Black, who had not been seen since his break-in in February. Exams were coming. Haneul had grown complacent about them since her first year, since they had not really mattered until now, and last year’s had even been cancelled. But in June, Haneul, and her whole year group, would sit their O.W.Ls, or Ordinary Wizarding Levels, and they really did matter. O.W.Ls influenced what career path one could take, as bad grades in some would mean that certain jobs were forever off-limits. Plus, when they went into sixth year, students would drop more subjects, and they would only be able to continue their studies in subjects in which they achieved high enough grades.

The Easter holidays were a real let-down in terms of living up to their name. All the teachers had once again given a ‘this is why your exams are so important’ speech to the fifth-years in the week before they broke up, and it was clear to everyone that the time off of lessons was for revision, not relaxation. Haneul now understood why, in the years preceding this one, the fifth and seventh years had been so tense during this time, and why they had always shouted at the younger years to be quiet. There was barely any chance to stop and discuss things that had popped into their heads, these days, because Haneul found that her head was too full of Transfiguration laws and Potions ingredients to really think of anything else. It was a testament to how fickle the hysteria about Black had been, that it was so easy to forget, and how important O.W.L exams were. Even Jae Chan, who hadn’t known about the existence of these exams until September, was taking it seriously, and could often be observed behind a stack of several books, reading over or writing detailed notes. 

Haneul spent a guilty fifteen minutes looking enviously out at some younger students, who were running about the grounds, enjoying the much-improved weather, until she realised that she was wasting time, and went back to her Herbology notes, thinking about how many terms she could have learned in that time - a whole quarter-of-an-hour. Cara seemed to have frozen in place, her hands pressed on her forehead, staring down at a diagram of a plug socket. The only clue to her still being alive was that her lips were forming the shapes of what appeared to be different parts of the object. She seemed to either be finding this particular subject difficult, or was only semi-conscious and the information was just slipping through her brain.

“It’s ridiculous.” Cara murmured to her notes.

“What’s ridiculous?” Haneul raised an eyebrow, glad to have something to call her away from revising mandrakes.

“Oh. I said that out loud.” Cara rubbed her face with her hands. “I can’t wait to drop Muggle Studies. Amaya was right, I shouldn’t have taken it.”

“I wish I  _ had _ taken it,” Amaya groaned. “It’s easier than Ancient Runes.” 

“For you, maybe.” Jae Chan had come over from another table, looking distinctly ruffled. “I wish I didn’t have to take it. It’s so  _ confusing _ .”

“I don’t get it either.” Haneul nodded. “I know it’s probably easy for Muggles but… public transport doesn’t make sense to me.”

“It’s simple, really. Just learn the different names of the vehicles, and a few examples. It’s not so complicated, people use it every day. Just imagine that… A bus schedule is like a potion recipe.” Amaya suggested.

“Don’t worry too much.” Cara said, a little to herself. “There’s still quite a while until the exams, we have time to learn everything, hopefully.”

“Hopefully.” Haneul echoed. “What if we don’t?” 

“Well, you can retake next year, I think,” Amaya said. “I heard Olivia asking Flitwick, and he said if you do really badly, and you fail something you needed for your N.E.W.Ts or your career, you can retake it.”

“Nobody’s retaken in  _ ages _ though,” Cara said, worriedly. “Even Ian didn’t have to retake.”

“That’s a good sign then.” Jae Chan smiled, but very tiredly. “If nobody has had to retake, then that means most people can do well enough, and you’re all definitely clever enough to pass with good marks.”

“It’s not just about passing, it’s about doing well enough to get the job you want. If you do badly in certain O.W.Ls, you’ll get rejected from certain jobs.”

“But how are we meant to know about that?” Jae Chan asked, his eyes widening, his smile disappearing. 

“I think you get a meeting, with your head of house,” Cara said. “I remember Ian talking about it, because McGonagall told him he was too impulsive to be a Healer.”

As if whoever responsible had heard Cara, the next morning, pamphlets had appeared in the common room, advertising certain careers loudly on their front covers. On the noticeboard, which usually just contained scraps of parchment advertising a Chocolate Frog card for trade or meetup times of the Gobstones club, contained a new, untattered notice.

_ CAREERS ADVICE _

_ All fifth years are required to attend a short meeting with their Head of House in the first week of the summer term to discuss their future careers. Times are listed below. _

Amaya grinned broadly, and pointed to where her name was listed. 

“I get to miss Potions, on Tuesday!” She exclaimed. “This  _ is _ worth it, after all.”

“I bet we’ll do something that’s on the exam,” Cara warned. “That’s just the type of thing Snape would do. Teach us something we really need to know on a day when some people are absent.”

Amaya shrugged. “I’m dropping Potions, even if I somehow manage to get an Outstanding. He can teach the entire syllabus on Tuesday, I don’t care.”

The pamphlets were only semi-useful, Haneul thought. There were all sorts of careers advertised, but it didn’t help her with the same question that she couldn’t answer - what would she do when she left Hogwarts? She had hoped that being given options laid out in front of her would give her some idea, but nothing that she read made her feel like a path was calling to her. Gringotts seemed a relatively interesting place to work, but you needed Arithmancy, which Haneul hadn’t studied. On the other hand, the various different departments at the Ministry of Magic sounded fine, but Haneul felt like they were over-advertising. She was sure that there were plenty of interesting things to do in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, but she felt that ‘a constantly exciting and renewing career’ was an overstatement. 

There was great interest over the simple, dark pamphlet that simply read ‘The Auror Office’. Even if it was not a realistic ambition, it was undeniable that the  _ idea _ of being an Auror was, in a way, cool. Cara had more information than anyone about the Auror Office, because that was where her dad worked, but still didn’t have all the ins and outs of the job. 

“You’ve got to be  _ really _ clever. Five N.E.W.Ts, nothing below an ‘E’,”Amaya said, as her eyes scanned the leaflet. “And you have to do a lot of training after you leave school.”

“The training can take years.” Cara informed them. “It’s really hard to get accepted, it’s rare to have more than one person join a year. Sometimes, they go years without accepting anyone new. Dad said they once went five years without anyone new joining up.”

“Well, it’s really dangerous, isn’t it?” Haneul asked. “People die doing it, don’t they?”

Cara nodded, gravely. “Especially when You-know-who was in power, it was the Aurors who had to do a lot of the fighting against the Death Eaters. They caught a lot of them, but there were… a significant amount of deaths, I think. And they’re really, really good at magic.”

“You probably need Potions for it, so I’m not doing it.” Amaya said, with a shrug. “The Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures sounds good. I like Care of Magical Creatures, and that’s similar, right?”

Haneul glanced down at the pamphlet in her hand. “Yep, you need that, and it says either Herbology or Potions, and Charms. But mostly, good patience.”

“Why does  _ everything _ like it if you have Potions?” Amaya asked.

“It’s a core subject. Antidotes are useful.” Jae Chan shuffled through a pile of leaflets on the table. “But you don’t need Potions for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Accidents and Catastrophes, or Magical Transportation. Actually, a lot of Ministry departments don’t mind if you don’t have Potions. I think it’s useful for certain jobs, but then for certain others, it isn’t needed at all.”

Cara nodded. “It looks like you only really need it for Healing, Auror Office, and a few certain offices that deal directly with potions. Otherwise, it’s not needed.” 

“I bet you’ll do it for N.E.W.T anyway,” Jae Chan said, knowingly. “Even though you hate it.”

“Absolutely not.” Amaya leant forward. “I  _ detest _ that subject.”

“But you’re good at it,” Jae Chan pointed out. “And we’ll probably all do it, anyway.”

“I love you all, I really do,” Amaya said. “But I’m not taking Potions, not even for all of you.”

“You’ll, as they say, eat your words.” Jae Chan opened a leaflet on Healing, and disappeared behind it.

“What’s being a Healer like?” Haneul asked, looking at Cara. “Ian does it, doesn’t he?”

“He really likes it. He says it’s a really exciting job, because there’s something different every day, but it’s hard, as well. Some people have really strange injuries, and well, sometimes people die, or have permanent conditions. I think it can be mentally difficult, but Ian’s not the type to show it.” 

“Do you think you’re going to follow in his footsteps?” Haneul asked her.

“No, I don’t think so. It doesn’t really, you know, call my name. I think I’m more suited for something less… Unpredictable. I’d like to work in Games and Sports, or maybe International Relations.” She cocked her head to the side. “What about you, though? You’re pretty good at everything.”

“I don’t know. I never really thought about it, until now, you know?” Haneul replied. “It’s always just been about school, so I don’t think I ever stopped to think about what comes after.”

“Flitwick will be able to give you advice,” Amaya said, reassuringly. “And it doesn’t matter if you don’t know what you want to do yet, you can always change if you start out by doing something that’s not for you.”

Haneul certainly hoped so. In theory, she didn’t  _ really _ need to know exactly what she wanted to do after Hogwarts when she was only sixteen, and was sure that most people didn’t get a proper idea until later on, but she wanted to feel a little more sure of herself, like her friends were. Even if they didn’t know exactly what they wanted to do, Haneul could tell that her friend had at least a vague idea of what area of work they wanted to go into. 

At eleven o’clock on Wednesday, Haneul left her Ancient Runes lesson early, with absolutely no idea what she would say to Professor Flitwick when he asked her what she wanted to do.

Haneul had never had a reason to go into his office before now. She assumed only people who were in a great deal of trouble, or had something very serious going on in their lives, to get called into his office. It was very different to both teachers’ offices that Haneul had previously been in, because it did not contain any dark creatures for lessons, like Lupin’s did, and it was not dusky and filled with potions ingredients or low light like Snape’s. It resembled Ravenclaw common room in some ways, because it was big and airy, with large windows. As usual, Flitwick was relying on a stack of books to help him reach his desk whilst sitting on his chair, and it was littered with the same leaflets as had been in the Ravenclaw common room. 

“Do sit down, Shin,” He said, as squeakily as usual. “Now, as I’m sure you know, this meeting is for me to advise you on what you should be thinking of taking for your N.E.W.Ts, so you can prepare for your O.W.L exams accordingly.” He peered down his nose at her, smiling kindly. “Do you have any idea of what you would like to do when you leave Hogwarts?”

Haneul paused momentarily. “Honestly, I don’t.”

He nodded, understandingly. “That’s very normal. You shouldn’t be worried. Many students don’t know what they want to do. Perhaps you know what you don’t want to do? That will narrow your decision.”

“I don’t think I want to be a Healer, or work in Games and Sports… But other than that, I’m not sure.”

“Well, I must say that your marks don’t give much of an indication, either. You’ve been doing very well this year, according to your teachers.” He glanced down at his clipboard, shuffling through some sheets of parchment. “Yes, an overall average of ‘Exceeds Expectations’ across the board. I think you’ll be able to take the N.E.W.Ts that you want, do you think you have an idea of what you’d like to continue with, next year?”

“Defence Against the Dark Arts, definitely, and Transfiguration, Potions and Charms too. And I think I want to keep doing Herbology, too. I don’t think I’ll keep on with Muggle Studies, or Astronomy, or History of Magic.”

Flitwick’s finger traced down the page as she recited each of these names. “Well, you’re on the right track with those. Professor Lupin predicts you an ‘Outstanding’, and Professor McGonagall has put you in between ‘Exceeds Expectations’ and ‘Outstanding’. I’ve been very pleased with your Charmwork too, Shin, I’d say you’re right on the path to achieving an ‘Outstanding’.” He bent closer to the parchment. “Potions and Herbology are good too. Usually, Professor Snape refuses to accept any students who do not get an ‘Outstanding’ in their O.W.L, but your marks are averaging about the same as Transfiguration, so I think you should be able to continue, as long as you keep revising.” He studied Haneul for a few moments, as if trying to gauge her thoughts about his preceding monologue. “I think you certainly can aim high, in terms of your future career. You’re doing well in all subjects that are needed to work as an Auror, and in most likely any department of the Ministry. You are clearly capable.”

Haneul felt her cheeks redden slightly. “I don’t think I want to be an Auror. It’s quite dangerous, isn’t it? The defence aspect of it is interesting, but it’s really hard, that’s what I’ve heard.”

“Oh, certainly, the Auror Office only accepts the best, and you must have a certain toughness just to get through all the tests and training. If you’re interested in the defence side, perhaps a different office in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement would be good for you. Plenty of those offices involve similar skills and tasks to Aurors, only on a less risky level, I think.” He pulled out a booklet and flipped through it. “The Dark Objects Detection Taskforce, and Office for Regulation and Confiscation of Dangerous Potions and Poisons, for instance.” He continued to turn pages. Of course, if you’re interested in Magical Law, then you could also think about working in the courts, to examine laws on a broader scale.” 

“What N.E.W.Ts would I need for that, Professor?”

“Well, they like good grades, mostly. Obviously, anything involving Dark objects or magic requires Defence Against the Dark Arts, the Poison office would require Potions, that’s the sort of thing. Some offices have specific requirements based on what you work closely with, but in general, aiming for high graded, academically-oriented N.E.W.Ts. Now, it’s normal to do between three and five, I think you can certainly handle five, seeing how well you’re managing right now, and perhaps even six, if you think there’s a sixth you’d like to pursue.”

Haneul nodded. “And when do we have to pick them?”

“Oh, not until next year! You will get your O.W.Ls over the summer, and then at the start of Sixth Year, I will help each student decide which subjects it is best for them to continue. So you don’t have to commit to anything yet.” Flitwick’s small eyes found the clock. “It is nearly time for us to finish, I think, O’Connor should be along soon, unless you have any other questions for me, Shin?”

She shook her head. Her queries had been slightly alleviated, but she had nothing else to ask, and figured that her other thoughts on career would be ones she had to work out herself, and that no amount of suppositions from Professor Flitwick would resolve them. As she left the office, absorbed in her own thoughts to go to Transfiguration, Haneul saw Keira walking up the corridor, on the way to her appointment. Haneul didn’t make a habit of talking to her, for obvious reasons, and it seemed that for all her other idiocies, Keira had at least accepted that there was no point trying to talk to many of the Ravenclaws, because she made rendered herself thoroughly disliked by her way of offending anyone with sense. She gave Haneul a strange look as she passed, a sort of smirk, yet also scathing and mocking. Did Keira think that Haneul’s meeting had gone badly? That she had been told she would fail all her exams? Or was she expecting a bucketload of praise from Flitwick, and was already feeling smug in advance. Come to think of it, Haneul had never seen that look on Keira’s face before, usually she looked contemptuous or haughty, or maybe disgusted. 

“How was it?” Amaya leant over Cara as Professor McGonagall started calling out the register. “What did he say?”

Haneul opened her mouth to reply, but Professor McGonagall looked severely over in their direction, so she closed it again. 

“He just asked me what I wanted to do,” Haneul murmured to Amaya when Professor McGonagall had set them to work on revising Vanishing Spells. “And what N.E.W.Ts I wanted to do.”

“Did he tell you what career to take?” Cara asked, speaking at a normal level now that the class had become noisier. 

“He said I should go into Magical Law.” She shrugged. “But I don’t know if he’s right. His advice was kind of general, he just said I could do most things because my marks are good.”

Cara frowned. “Well, that  _ is _ true. Your marks  _ are _ good.”

“Perhaps, but that doesn’t help. I don’t think he’s necessarily well-qualified to give advice.”

“Maybe he just doesn’t know what to do when someone says they’re not sure,” Amaya suggested, waving her wand too exaggeratedly and accidentally hitting her rat, which squeaked loudly and leapt off the desk. Amaya paused to summon it back to her, as Professor McGonagall frowned and told her to be more careful.

“I think that’s probably it. He knew all the grades I needed to get to do the N.E.W.Ts I want, so he was  _ trying _ , I think.”

“What grades do you need to get?” Amaya echoed, her hand freezing in midair. 

“Some teachers don’t accept students into N.E.W.T classes if they don’t do well enough in their O.W.Ls. Snape doesn’t take anyone who doesn’t get an ‘Outstanding’, that’s what Flitwick said. And I’m sure the other teachers have requirements, too.”

“And there’s another thing for you to start worrying about,” Jae Chan chipped in, who had just been listening up to that point.

“Yeah, because we all need more of those.” Haneul rolled her eyes.

Halfway through Transfiguration, Cara left to go to her Careers Advice meeting, and Keira returned, the smug expression completely gone from her face. Haneul was nowhere near close enough to her to know whether Keira was doing well in lessons, but suspected that Flitwick had probably told her that she had not been doing well enough to achieve her desired career.

“I wonder what Keira wants to do, other than be bigoted, when she laves here.” Amaya narrowed her eyes, not bothering to hide her contempt.

“Join the Death Eaters?” Haneul suggested, offhandedly, and looking at the horrified expressions of the other two, she added, “Joke. It was a joke.”

“It wouldn’t surprise me,” Amaya replied. “But other than that, she’s probably looking for whatever can get her the most power.”

“That’s a little Slytherin of her, isn’t it?” Jae Chan asked, following Amaya’s gaze over at her.

“What, being power-hungry?” Amaya asked. “Yes, it is, a bit.”

“You can have another house’s trait while not being in that house,” Haneul blurted out, memories of her own sorting coming back to her. “But you can choose the house you go to.”

“You can?” Amaya raised an eyebrow. “But the hat-”

“Takes your opinion into consideration,” Haneul finished. “It wanted to put me in Slytherin, said I had the ambition and cunning, or something, but I wanted to go to Ravenclaw, and then it agreed that I had the thirst for knowledge required, and put me there. So I suppose, if Keira had really, really wanted to be in Ravenclaw, she could have gone there. Even if she had some traits that fit Slytherin better.”

“Wow… I never knew that.” Amaya sat back, looking impressed.

“That seems quite logical, actually,” Jae Chan said. “The choices you make show a lot about you. So if you want to choose the path of intellect, you ought to be able to do that, and it shows you fit in Ravenclaw. So in theory, everyone could be in every house.” He shrugged. “I’ve always liked that idea more. Seeing as I wasn’t sorted.”

“That makes sense, when you say it like that.” Amaya nodded. “Really, we choose our houses, the hat just helps us to make our choices, or can tell what we might choose later on.” She tilted her head to the side, examining Haneul. “I can’t see you as anything except a Ravenclaw though. “I don’t see you in Slytherin.”

Haneul half-smiled. “A lot of people say that, you know.”

Jae Chan’s words had been of a much greater comfort than he could know, Haneul thought. It was in a way, quite beautiful, the idea of being something of everything, not just one. But he was right - there was nobody who only had one personality trait. Everyone, or nearly everyone, had the capacity to be brave, intelligent, loyal and ambitious. And everyone had some of it in them, too. For a long time, Haneul had sometimes felt that she didn’t quite deserve to be where she was, and that the other members of her house would prefer her to go to Slytherin, if they had known it had been an option for her. But she felt more at peace with that hidden moment now. Perhaps she would have felt at home with the Slytherins, in another life, but in this life, she was not meant to. The very fact that she had wanted to pursue that which lay in the Blue House showed that she was right for it. Perhaps she did have ambition, and in fact could pride herself on her want to succeed, but it was not so pronounced that she was at home with all those who felt that it was the most important thing to be. She thought Jae Chan was probably the best example of someone who could fit anywhere, hence why he thought it was possible. He was clever, he had shown that already, and fit with the Ravenclaws as if he had been there since day one, but he was unfailingly kind, hard-working and loyal too. He could just as well fit amongst the Hufflepuffs, haneul thought. And he had courage, as well. Even if he was not thrust into particularly dangerous situations in which to demonstrate how incredibly brave he was, he did not show fear. Haneul knew that his father greatly disliked him, and treated him as if he were nothing, and she assumed it took courage to continue to smile despite that. And his determination, that was pronounced too. He had never given up, as far as Haneul knew, He was always so determined to do good, she thought. 

That, perhaps, was what made a person intrinsically good. Not that they were only one thing, but that they balanced everything perfectly. Maybe, or definitely, Jae Chan was the example of what real goodness was. It wasn’t that he didn’t have flaws. Haneul had observed his unfailing trust to border on naivety, but his flaws did not make him less. If anything, trust was a  _ good _ flaw. Rather than being spiteful, or close-minded, or lazy, his internal goodness was the only thing that could ever bring him down. So did that mean that being fully good was not what people should always aim for? Being a so-called ‘good’ person was meant to be an aim, something to fulfil, but did having a little bad inside oneself make them, in some ways, stronger? No, not necessarily, Haneul concluded. It was just that people could not be anything without having something that sometimes acted as a disadvantage, but that some people’s disadvantage was born of their goodness, not their bad side.

But most people were good, really. It was quite rare to meet a bad person, and Haneul thought that everyone was good unless they had a lot of bad. People were complicated, she thought, so complicated. She supposed that it took a great deal to make someone bad, and not very much to come over the line and become good. But it was a matter of opinion, too. She thought Keira to be bad, because of the things she said, but her friends, her family, probably thought her very good, or at least, just somewhat good. And maybe she was good, only not as good as others. And what did that word even mean? Good. Haneul turned the syllable over in her head, not able to just say it out loud in the company of others like this. It was just a sound, wasn’t it, just a sound that meant something she knew, but couldn’t explain. So good meant good, love meant love, bad meant bad, and hate meant hate. 

“He told me I should be a Healer, like Ian.” Cara’s voice did what voices did so often, and cut through Haneul’s layers of thoughts as easily as a severing charm, and they burst, disappearing in ribbons back to her subconscious.

“He did?” Jae Chan asked. “But that’s not even what you want, is it?”

Cara nodded, reaching for a roll. “Yes. I said I liked the idea of working in Games and Sports, and he said he was surprised, because he thought I’d go into something similar to Ian, and that I’m good enough and Potions and Herbology to be a Healer.” Cara rolled her eyes. “I’m good at Potions because I’ve sat next to Haneul since first year.” She grumpily tore off a piece of the roll and put it in her mouth.

“Just don’t listen to him,” Amaya said, simply. “He’s not a professional careers advisor, and what you want is more important. I mean, you probably are good enough to be a Healer, but if you’re going to hate it, then don’t bother.”

“And anyway. He doesn’t really  _ know _ you,” Haneul said. “I think you’d be better in Games and Sports, seeing as you never shut up about Quidditch. He’s just never had the pleasure of being subject to one of your  _ delightful _ lectures.”

Cara rolled her eyes, but grinned.

“Being happy is the real measure of success, I think,” Jae Chan said, very casually, though it was usual by now, for him to say things like that as if he was only commenting on the weather.

Amaya chewed in an impressed-looking way. “Deep,” she said, in mock seriousness. “Where do you come up with these things?”

“My mother says things like that. Sometimes for a reason, but sometimes she just walks into a room and says it.” Jae Chan replied. “I think I’m translating them well.”

“I think she’d get along with my dad,” Amaya said, decisively. “I remember, when I was younger, he would say things like that when he came home. He probably still does it, but I’m not there a lot of the time now.” A certain sadness crossed her eyes for a flicker of a second. 

“Is it strange, to suddenly find out you’re a witch?” Haneul asked, wondering if that flicker had anything to do with how drastically Amaya’s life had changed from that of her family’s

She nodded. “I never knew that anything I could do was actual magic. I had done a bit, before they came and told me I was a witch, but I thought it was just… luck, or something. I didn’t believe it at first, when someone from the Ministry came to our house. My parents didn’t either, but then he showed them real magic, and they did. But I think the hardest thing for them to accept was me going to Hogwarts. Family, and being together is so important for us, in our culture. And the fact that I wouldn’t be there for long periods of time… Because my parents never planned to send me to boarding school. I was just going to go to the local secondary school.”

“I think it’s strange for all parents. Mine cried nearly every day for a month when Ian came, and they knew it was going to happen,” Cara said. “Though, now he’s back living with us all the time, I’m not sure they’re too happy either.” She joked. “But it’s probably weirdest for your mum, isn’t it, Haneul? She’s all on her own when you’re not there, right?”

The use of her name jerked Haneul out of her listening stupor. “Oh, yes, I suppose. I mean, she doesn’t tell me that it’s weird, or lonely, but… It probably is.”

This thought hurt far more than any of her friends could know, because they didn’t understand the whole of Minjeong’s delicate story. In truth, Haneul knew that her mother had had nobody but her for her years after leaving school, that she had been disowned by her family, and separated from her friends by the sheer fact that she would be a mother. In a way, she had been shoved from society too. Nobody talked about it, but being a single mother was not something that was generally well-looked upon. Those who called themselves traditional would not have approved. And the thought of being in her mother’s situation, and then having to let go of the one person who unconditionally loved and needed her was more moving and saddening than anything she had ever thought of. 

“I’d cry for years and years, if I had to send my kids to Hogwarts.” Amaya declared. “Even if I was married.” 

Marriage. The improbable dream for Minjeong and Amaya alike. 

“I think you’d get used to it, though,” Cara reasoned. 

And so Minjeong had prevailed, and fought with no weapons through all that she had been unwillingly forced to deal with. Because she  _ was _ a strong person, and she was respected, had friends, and was well thought of. If she had fallen, she had not died there on the ground, but she had pulled herself up, and battled through. How ironic, Haneul thought, that from those that had given her life, it was Snape, the one who could have run, who indeed had seemed to have run, who was the least free. Perhaps it was not because of her, but it was nonetheless something interesting to consider, because it was so contrary to what society thought would happen, and indeed, what Haneul would have assumed. The man, the father, running away and living his life as he pleased, whilst the mother was forced by simple humanness to stay connected to her child and shape her life around that. But Minjeong ws not trapped, and she was not fallen. She, Haneul thought, a small smile curling at her lips as she descended to the dungeons for Potions, was happy, and had done well. She was the one to feel pride in, and was the one, Haneul knew, could smile freely, because she was in total acceptance of that which the world had bestowed upon her sixteen years ago.

Amaya was furious to know that, despite her absence from the lesson, Snape had set them a test on the new material they had covered on Bicorn horns. Haneul thought, privately, that Snape would never find an adversary as hell-bent on using every insult against him in his entire lifetime.

“The stupid, idiotic, greasy old bat,” she sulked, after she had received the news in Ancient Runes, the last lesson of the day. “What I wouldn’t give to have a proper go at him.”

“You’d end up dead, or a horned toad,” Cara warned, pausing from her translation. 

“No, she wouldn’t.” Haneul reached for the rune dictionary. “Looks can’t actually kill people.”

“He could hex her into  _ oblivion _ ,” Cara retorted. “Or make some concoction to turn her into a blister.”

Jae Chan sniggered into his hand. “A blister? Just a blister, not on anyone’s body? How does that work?”

She shrugged. “I dunno. I’m not Snape, I don’t actually understand how to create a potion.” She rolled her eyes. “I don’t think this is a rune. It looks like a squiggle.” She pointed to a marking on her page.

Amaya frowned at it, and then grinned. “That’s because it’s a number. It’s 457, because this Viking overlord, or whoever he is, had 457 crimes in his kingdom for which you could be thrown in the river.”

“I’m too tired for this.” Cara declared. “How can we be expected to learn new things, when we’re already revising for hours every day?”

It was certainly true that these days, the common room almost never cleared. It was normal for students to revise hours into the night, some even falling asleep at their tables. Others would sleep early, and rise before dawn to study before breakfast. Whatever way it was done, the hysteria about exams was fully upon all fifth and seventh year students now that the Easter holidays had passed, which had been the last wall between them and the exams. They would begin in late May, and now that April was slipping away, they were becoming all that anyone could think about. It did not matter that the weather was getting better, and it did not even matter that the final of the Quidditch Cup was approaching, and that frequent scuffles kept breaking out between Gryffindor and Slytherin students. Even Cara, who was so into Quidditch that she would play in below freezing temperatures, was considering not attending the match, because it would use up valuable time that she could spend revising. 

“I mean, Ravenclaw won’t win, we know that, and the common room will be so quiet if everyone else goes.” She reasoned over dinner, two days before the final. “I like Quidditch, but I don’t want to fail my exams. I’ll get to watch all the matches next year, anyway.”

Even though she was mostly focused on revision, Haneul noticed how high tensions were over the next two days. Members of the Gryffindor and Slytherin teams seemed to have acquired a new, protected status, and were marched around by several bodyguards, most likely a reaction to the sudden jinxing and hexing of the opposition that had gone on since Monday, in an attempt to sabotage players. The younger years from houses that weren’t Gryffindor and Slytherin also seemed to be taking an interest - it had been years since anyone other than Slytherin had won the cup, and most Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs would be supporting Gryffindor for this reason. There was also an underground, but nonetheless thriving betting system underway, from what Haneul overheard in the corridors and in the courtyard at break times. It was fairly normal for some students to bet on the winner of a match, but some more intricate bets had been placed, such as the exact amount of points that would be scored, or how long the game would continue. Betting was, technically, banned, so this all had to be done in secret, and at least ten people had already been given detention because they had been found out. 

On the morning of the match, Cara observed that the weather was ideal Quidditch conditions, and that other than some bright sun that could cause vision problems, there would be no interruption from nature in the winning of the match. It seemed that the whole school, bar a few people in exam years, were heading out, and nobody from Gryffindor or Slytherin had decided to skip in favour of revision. Haneul, on the other hand, followed Cara back to Ravenclaw Tower after breakfast, as the four of them had decided to devote the day to revising for their Potions practical exam, which Snape had spent their last lesson describing in detail, which had only made it sound more horrible. They would have to brew a potion from the syllabus with limited instruction, out of a choice of three. He had made sure to impress upon them that they still had to revise everything, because the Wizarding Examinations Authority was allowed to pick whichever three potions they wanted, and there was no way to predict what would be on the exam.

“If we revise all but two, we’ll be guaranteed one that we know in the exam.” Haneul said, shuffling through her notes. “So which potions should we leave out?”

“The hardest ones,” Amaya said, looking grim.

“I don’t know… Perhaps they will mark them according to how difficult they are to brew,” Jae Chan suggested. “So, if you brew something fiddly, you have a bigger margin for error, but if you do one that’s less complicated, it has to be perfect.”

Haneul flipped through their textbook, which they had hardly used.

“Ugh, we’re going to have to use our notes, and completely memorise them, aren’t we?” Amaya grumbled. “I forgot the book is different.”

Snape had, since their first year, written their instructions for potions on the blackboard, and then had them write the recipes down with notes on why certain ingredients were better suited in different amounts and such. Because of this, few students had really ever used their textbook, which didn’t have much more than instructions and some scraps of information on different ingredients. On closer inspection, at some time over the years, Haneul and her friends had discovered that Snape taught them slightly altered methods. Haneul had never tried the ‘official’ recipes, so she had never known if Snape’s were particularly better, but had never found his instructions particularly difficult. 

“I’m sure the textbook recipes work,” Cara said, opening her nearly pristine copy of  _ Magical Drafts and Potions _ . “But I don’t fancy trying them out in an exam.”

“What about the theory paper?” Jae Chan asked. “If a question wants to know how much peppermint to put in a Deflating Draught, do we quote Snape’s three sprigs, or the textbook’s two and a half?”

“The textbook,” Haneul said, dragging her hand through her hair and watching the work pile up in front of her. “Whoever marks these exams will be looking for the standard amounts. They’re not going to test your theory if you say something else. But in the practical, I’m sure they don’t really care what you do, so long as you produce a good concoction.”

“And there’s yet  _ another _ reason that I won’t be doing it next year,” Amaya said, very pointedly. “I don’t want to go to the trouble of memorising double, just because my teacher wants to show us the wrong instructions.”

“Actually, I think Snape’s are more right. I mean, no potion’s ever gone wrong in his classes, unless someone deviates from his instructions. I think he’s just the sort of person to test out all the recipes and work out how to edit them so that they work more smoothly.” Cara said

Amaya chuckled. “You know, I think you might be right. He seems lonely enough to do that.”

“And what’s  _ that _ supposed to mean?” Jae Chan asked, looking amused. 

“I don’t think he’s got like, friends, or a wife or anything,” Amaya explained. “I mean, whether or not he’s good at potions, he doesn’t strike me as a very  _ likeable _ person, even outside of the classroom. Maybe other people like him, who dress as bats and brew potions would get on with him, but they’d also be recluses and so they’d never get a chance to meet.”

Haneul remembered something that her mother had said at Christmas - about how Snape had been unpopular at school, and how, even then, he had been private, and never talked about personal things. So it wasn’t altogether difficult to agree with Amaya, that the adult Snape had no, or very few, friends, and that he had spent his youth working out all the intricacies that were wrong with age old potions. 

The news that Gryffindor had won filtered in as the morning progressed, as the usual policy of enforced silence was broken by excitable Ravenclaws returning from the match, chattering about how Gryffindor had won the Cup, and were probably having a roaring party back in their common room at this very moment. Haneul had never seen Ravenclaw looking so red - everyone had been supporting Gryffindor, and so they had been wearing those house colours, or else carrying banners with golden lions adorning them. Cara demonstrated some extraordinary self control, Haneul thought, and didn’t express her happiness about the results more than once. It was certainly a much lighter afternoon spent, because everyone from first to fourth year was fixated on the match, and those who were studying didn’t have the heart to tell them to be quiet. The year had been a heavy one so far, what with Sirius Black and Dementors, and it was nice that for once, there was something to enjoy, even if exams hung only a few weeks out of reach. 

“The Slytherins are all going to be in a foul mood.” Jae Chan leant back in his chair as the sun was sinking over the grounds. He didn’t sound very grim, in fact his tone was quite lighthearted. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Amaya said, airly, waving a hand. “They can’t do anything about it, and we don’t have many more potions lessons with them either.” She grinned. “And then, we’re done.”

“No we are not,” Haneul frowned. “We have two weeks of exams. And they’re only about three weeks away now!” 

Jae Chan nodded. “I don’t think we are anywhere near being done. It’s not like we will never have to be around a Slytherin student ever again once we finish the year.”

“Oh, don’t be such a downer.” Amaya smiled at nothing. “You’re meant to be the uplifting one out of us four.”

“I’m on temporary leave from that for now,” he said, but was smiling back at her. 

“I can take over if you really need me to.” Haneul offered. It was hard to feel too worried on a day like this, where things seemed so easy, despite all that lay ahead. 

“You? Uplifting? I don’t see it.” Cara yawned. 

“I could be, if I really wanted to.” Haneul paused and rooted around inside her mind. “You just have to relax, alright? Everything’s going to be absolutely  _ fine _ .” She looked at Cara with mock sincerity. “I have the utmost faith that you will pass all your exams, with top marks. And just remember, that after the rain, comes a sunny day.” She finished with a winning smile that felt odd. 

“A noteworthy performance,” Amaya said, clapping slowly. “Perhaps if Chan resigns from his post entirely, you can take his job.”

“No, I don’t think so.” Cara reached for her copy of  _ One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi _ . “She did okay, but she doesn’t look like the sun when she smiles, so she can’t replace Jae Chan.” She opened the book. “Now, one of you tell me why dried nettles are better than regular nettles for potion-making.”

Haneul would have liked to go to bed at a normal time, but as was now customary, she stayed up answering and asking questions about that day’s revision topic. She was sure her brain might explode with all the facts she was trying to cram into it, and wondered whether she might go delirious in the exam and write down Transfiguration answers to Defence Against the Dark Arts questions. But she found that she had successfully memorised the methods of seven set potions out of ten that they had to know how to make, and that she actually knew rather more about dried nettles than she had originally thought when she had heard the question from Cara. It being past midnight when they finally called it a day was not even abnormal, as a group of seventh years were still feverishly going over Charms theory, and a knot of fifth-year boys quizzing each other on Astronomy, among others, once the four of them had finished packing away their things. In fact, the only person who was in the dormitory when Haneul, Amaya and Cara reached it, was Keira. 

She was, thankfully, asleep, or at least was not in the mood for any interaction, as the hangings were drawn around her bed, and her quiet breathing was audible. Keira had been strangely quiet over the past few days, since Haneul had seen her looking so smug after she came out of her own careers meeting. Haneul tried to remember how Keira had been after her meeting, when she had come back into class, but Haneul had not thought to check, because she was not all that invested in Keira’s actions. But she hadn’t said anything particularly to anyone - derogatory or otherwise, and Haneul wondered if she had been served a reality check in her meeting. She did not know how Professor Flitwick responded to those who had not been achieving good grades, and wondered whether this was the source of Keira’s recent quietness. Or perhaps he had brought up the incident outside Charms a few weeks ago, when Keira had called Amaya a mudblood, and perhaps her views had been so heavily questioned that she now needed to take some time to reevaluate everything that she had ever known.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://docs.google.com/document/d/1WKpgfj7u3NaqjP72cu3lbAmlMvAMVhStJEmbhtJUKU8/edit?usp=sharing
> 
> See you tomorrow for 2 more!


	27. Halls of Thought

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And... fifth year is coming to an end! I hope it's a good ending for all of you! I can't wait to begin sixth year next week.

If Keira’s newfound silence had anything to do with a dramatic overhaul of viewpoint, she did not show it. No, she did not interact with Amaya over the next week, but she also did not interact with anyone, so whether this indifference was due to Amaya’s parents could not be determined. She did, Haneul thought, glancing over at her during a long and boring History of Magic lesson, look a little exhausted, and seemed far less haughty than she ever had before. Granted, many of the students in the fifth year were looking more careworn, because they would prefer to revise than make sure their shirts were smooth, but Keira seemed to be sleeping more than anyone else, or at least retired to her four-poster long before anyone else. Maybe she was working late into the night there, or maybe she was lying awake for hours.

Nobody else showed any concern for Keira, at least not outwardly. She had succeeded in making herself thoroughly disliked by anyone with sense, and those few who she had kept company with didn’t seem to care enough about her to notice her slow withdrawal from general life. Perhaps others had noticed, but it seemed that no one cared about, or liked her enough to say anything. It was a pitiful sort of existence, Haneul thought, to have nobody who cared whether you were well or not, but she felt something, most likely loyalty to Amaya, keeping her from extending a word to Keira. 

“Something’s up with her,” Cara muttered, at breakfast on the Monday before exams started. 

“Up with who?” Jae Chan asked, absently, his eyes were fixed on a page in  _ The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5 _ .

“Keira,” Cara said, firmly, and Haneul jolted out of a sort of tired haze. She had barely slept, having had both Occlumency and revision the night before. 

Jae Chan put his book down too, nearly knocking over a jug of milk before Amaya snatched it out of the way. “How so?”

“She’s so quiet,” Haneul found herself saying, her head leaning on her hand. “And she doesn’t seem to be spending as much time in the common room.”

“Maybe she figured out she’s not welcome,” Amaya suggested, shrugging. “I’m good as long as she’s not bothering me.”

“She could be severely stressed,” Jae Chan offered. This was not altogether preposterous, as a Gryffindor girl had gone to pieces in Ancient Runes the previous week and had to be given some medicine by Madam Pomfrey before she would calm down and stop wailing about how she was going to fail her exams. 

“I don’t think her Careers Advice meeting went very well.” Haneul was aware that her speech was slightly slurred, she was so exhausted.

“What makes you say that?” Cara asked, leaning forward. 

“She was after me. I saw her go in, and she looked like she’d just won the lottery or something, really smug.”

“And when she came back?” Amaya asked, morning grogginess seeming to have left her.   


“I wasn’t looking, I didn’t know she’d suddenly go all quiet. I’m not sure if that was the start of it, but it could be.” 

“Maybe her marks are really bad, and Flitwick said she’ll fail everything.” The slight glee in Cara’s voice was evident. 

“I don’t think so. I mean, she’s pretty stupid about some things, but she’s not totally thick, I think her marks are alright.”

“There’s no way for us to tell,” Jae Chan said seriously. “She’d never want to share that with us.”

The weather was slowly improving, in the way that it always did during May. It was, by now, halfway through the month, and summer was truly on her way. It was not quite sweltering yet, so lessons were not as unpleasant as they might have been if it had been July. It was a shame that the pleasant weather could not be enjoyed, as more than ever, people were staying shut up in their common rooms or the library, revising long after the moon had risen. By now, the rest of the school had caught onto the exam hysteria, as all of the other students would be having their far less important year-end examinations during the second week of O.W.Ls. 

Professor Lupin also did not seem to be enjoying the good weather. Despite his encouraging words in the Monday morning lesson, about how he thought the whole class could do very well, he looked as tired as he had at the beginning of the year. This seemed to happen often, Haneul noticed, as her mind went everywhere except Defence Against the Dark Arts during the lesson, Lupin’s decline in health and then recovery, and then another decline. He had missed a lesson because of it, something Haneul had only observed to happen one other time, when there had been a particularly awful bout of colds and flu, and Professor Sprout had missed a lesson. Other than that, Hogwarts teachers just  _ didn’t _ miss lessons. Perhaps Lupin was very ill, or had some persistent and chronic condition that meant he had to frequently rest, and it was predictable enough that Snape had been able to cover the lesson.

“Now, we’ve got one more lesson until your O.W.Ls begin, so I think we’ll spend that lesson going over any topics you’re not sure about, and maybe a little bit of practical work.” Lupin was rounding up the class, Haneul vaguely realised, and tried to focus on what he was saying. 

“I don’t want any of you to get too worked up about these, alright? I don’t think any of you have anything to worry about, really, and I’m sure you’ll all pass it. But, of course, my office door is open if any of you are worried about it.” 

The nods that rippled through the class were probably all fake, seeing as it was as impossible for them to not be worried as it was to raise the dead. 

“Well then, I think that’s all for today.” He flashed them a smile that did not altogether rid his face of aged lines and tiredness. “Ah, O’Connor,” he called softly over the scraping of chairs and books being returned to bags. “A word, before you go, please.”

With the impassiveness to rival the most learned Occlumens, Keira rose from her seat and picked her way through the labyrinthine mob, most of whom only spared her a quick, furtive glance. Nobody wanted to test Keira’s usually harsh tongue, or chastise her in front of a respected teacher. 

“I’ll  _ bet _ it’s about her marks,” Cara whispered as they filed outside for break. Jae Chan had already pulled his Astronomy notes out of his bag to scan them. “Serves her right.”

“Don’t say that,” Amaya said, unexpectedly. 

“Why not? She deserves a bit of bad luck, she’s so nasty.”

“She is horrible, I agree with you on that,” Amaya began, as they settled in a corner of the courtyard, and Jae Chan poked his head over his notes. “But that doesn’t mean she deserves failure. I don’t believe many, if any, deserve utter failure. Punishment that only serves as retribution just doesn’t work. The world throwing hardships at Keira won’t stop her from being horrible, it will make her feel more resentful, and more spiteful.”

“But she throws hardships at you, and people like you!” Cara retorted, looking appalled. 

“But that’s not an excuse for me to act the same way back.” Amaya sighed. “I’m not particularly religious anymore, probably because I spend so much time here, but my parents’ philosophy teaches about love for  _ everyone _ . And I’m inclined to agree that showing kindness, or at least non-aggression, towards most people, will go further than giving back what they dole out.”

“Now it’s you who’s being deep,” Jae Chan said, smirking.

It did not really seem like the exams were going to begin until Thursday, when Professor Flitwick told the class during their Charms lesson that he wanted them all to come back to that classroom at six o’clock, for the purpose of explaining how the O.W.Ls would work. The previously cheery, though perhaps a little tired, class instantly turned to look at each other with the sort of expressions that suggested that Flitwick had just asked them to come and be subjected to the Dementor’s Kiss. When they all arrived back, most still clutching textbooks or notes, and hurriedly questioning each other under their breaths, the sun hung lower in the sky, and everything was more shadowy and golden. It was in some ways, more beautiful, but in most ways, more annoying, because it was harder to decipher the intricacies of a Chinese Chomping Cabbage in the lower light.

“Now now, put your things away for just one minute!” Professor Flitwick had clambered to the top of his stack of books, and was looking out at them all with a mixture of exasperation and paternal tenderness. 

“I’m sure that you are all very well aware of the approaching O.W.L exams.” He started. The word ‘exams’ had come to send a collective shiver through the class, in the same way that Voldemort’s name did. 

“The purpose of tonight is for me to tell you how things will work, and how each exam will proceed. And then, I can answer any questions you may have.” 

He was not met with a response, only twenty-four pairs of frightened and curious eyes. Never had any teacher commanded a room like this, Haneul thought.

“You will receive the timetables tomorrow. But in general, in the morning you will have a written exam, and in the afternoons, the practical element. Though, Ancient Runes, Muggle Studies, History of Magic and Arithmancy do not have practical portions, and the Astronomy practical will take place at night, rather than during the afternoon.” He gave the class a look, as if telling them to stop gazing at him like he was reading out a terrible fate for them all. “You will not be examined by your teachers, as has been the way in your exams before. Us teachers will be carrying out the exams for the rest of the school. Instead, some examiners from the Wizarding Examinations Authority will be examining you. Some of your teachers may invigilate, if we have time.” Flitwick looked suddenly stern. “I need not say that the most powerful of anti-cheating methods will be in place. Students attempt to cheat every year, unfortunately, but I can only say that woe betide you if it happens to be a Ravenclaw.”

Olivia put her hand up, and Professor Flitwick gave her a little nod. 

“Sir, what happens if we get ill during the exam? Will we be allowed to retake it?”

Haneul had not thought about this, and instantly a new wave of worry swept through her, and, it seemed, everyone who had not previously considered this. 

“Yes, you will be allowed to retake it, although the Wizarding Examinations Authority usually drafts a new paper for those who have missed an exam, to avoid cheating."

A boy who Haneul did not know well, him being from a different dormitory to Jae Chan, raised his hand almost the very moment Professor Flitwick closed his mouth.

“When do we get our results?”

“And what do we do if we fail?” That voice was Keira’s, and it had quivered more than Haneul had ever thought possible of it. 

“Your results will be posted to you sometime in July,” said Flitwick, and then turned more in Keira’s direction, his tone softening. “It is very rare for a student to fail every exam. Should any of you fail something that you wanted to take a N.E.W.T in, then you will discuss with me at the start of next year as to whether you would like to retake the exam, or choose a different subject that is more suited to you. In general, I recommend not retaking. Unless you think you underperformed during the exam due to external circumstances, it is likely that the poor result is a show that the subject is not the right one for you to take.”

“But, sir, what are the exact grades we have to get in everything to continue?” Cara blurted out. 

“For most subjects, an ‘Acceptable’, which is the first passing grade, is enough. However, for certain subjects, it is higher due to the increased difficulty of the work. For instance, Professor McGonagall does not accept N.E.W.T students with anything below an ‘Exceeds Expectations’, and Professor Snape will only take N.E.W.T students who have achieved an ‘Outstanding’. I, too, would prefer to take ‘Exceeds Expectations’ and above, but I review it on a case-by-case basis.” He said his last phrase with a certain measure of contempt, as if he resented the rigidity of his colleagues. 

The next day, all the fifth-years were given timetables of the next two weeks, which quickly became the newest topic of fascination and stress amongst them all, as they evaluated how unfair it was to have Transfiguration, a very content-heavy subject, on the first Tuesday, when it would have been much better suited to taking place on a Monday, after a weekend of solid cramming. 

“At least Potions is a Monday, though,” Violet said, feverishly. The whole dormitory, except Keira, who was replaced by Jae Chan, was sitting on the floor of the common room, examining every last millimetre of ink on their timetables, on Friday evening. “So we can spend the whole weekend revising for it.”

“And History of Magic is the last one… Well, I think it’s probably the one that nobody cares about…” Cara looked a little frantic.

“I’m going to  _ fail _ History of Magic,” Olivia declared. “We’ve got Astronomy the day before, and that’s at night.”

“Why couldn’t it be in the afternoon?” Jae Chan looked close to pulling clumps of his hair out. 

“At least you’re not an idiot who chose to do Arithmancy,” Olivia groaned. “If only I hadn’t, then I’d be able to  _ relax _ on Thursday afternoon.”

“But I have to do a full day on Tuesday, because I chose stupid Care of Magical Creatures!” Amaya protested.

“You  _ like _ Care of Magical Creatures,” Haneul reminded Amaya. “You want to do it next year.”

“Oh. Yeah, I guess I do.” She shook her head as if to rid it of something clouding her judgement.

“We shouldn’t be doing this!” Violet shrieked, suddenly. “We should be  _ revising _ !” 

They would surely pay dearly for the momentary lapse in judgement that had stolen half an hour of revision time from them, Haneul thought, feverishly, as she started to quiz Cara on the Reductor Curse, whilst Amaya was summoning everything within her line of vision, in an attempt to perfect her already-flawless summoning charm. A sort of scared silence had fallen over everyone who wouldn’t be starting their exams on Monday, as younger students watched with an interested fear at their elders, who all seemed to be captured in a trance by their books. Some were revising for the final exams that happened in the last week of O.W.Ls, but some seemed to be counting themselves lucky that they would not be filing into the Great Hall after breakfast on Monday to begin what was likely to resemble a week in hell. 

The weekend was spent going through any and everything that might help even the slightest with the exams. Overnight, between Friday and Saturday, a new trade had sprung up in place of the outlawed betting that had been present around the Quidditch Final - the sale of brain-boosting potions and powders. It was mostly sixth-years, offering these concoctions to fifth-years, swearing blindly that their elixirs had been single-handedly responsible for them and all their friends getting all ‘Outstandings’ in their O.W.Ls. Around every corner and in every niche of the walls, a pair, or small group of students could be observed, exchanging gold for something to save them in their time of need.

“None of that’s actually real, is it?” Amaya whispered, as she and Haneul went into the library to find a book for Charms. “I mean, Bob Johnson hasn’t  _ really _ got powdered dragon claw, has he?”

“I doubt it. The stuff’s way too expensive for him to be selling it at a galleon a pinch,” she hissed back, looking round to make sure Madam Pince was not hot on their heels. “And that wit-sharpening potion has got to be fake, too, I swear it’s not supposed to be red. And there’s no way Nancy Calder got full marks in all her O.W.Ls because of it, either. She had to drop Arithmancy because she didn’t do well enough, I remember her complaining about it at the start of the year.”

“Really?” Violet had joined them, from behind another shelf. “Because she’s telling anyone who will listen that it got her an ‘Outstanding in Potions.”

“That’s  _ definitely _ not true,” Amaya scoffed. “Because she told me just before Easter that dropping Potions was the best thing she’s ever had to do. So she can’t have done that well.”

“Keira bought some of it, though,” Violet said, casually browsing a shelf of dusty volumes. 

“She did? Does she really think it’ll help?” Haneul raised an eyebrow. She had not considered Keira to be that stupid, or that desperate.

“Olivia told her not to drink it, but she said Keira didn’t confirm that she wouldn’t.” Violet shrugged. “That prefect warned us all not to take anything like that from people. It’s up to Keira if she wants to do it.”

That was true - a seventh year had, just that morning, warned everyone that anything designed to sharpen one’s intellect was considered cheating, and that it was probably all fake, or, worse, dangerous, anyway. Most of the fifth years had turned away from the various concoctions offered to them by others purely based on their price, though a boy from Jae Chan’s dormitory had thoroughly scared everyone by relaying a story of someone who had apparently bought an amulet designed to heighten intelligence, and had ended up in St. Mungo’s for several weeks because it had actually been cursed.

By Sunday afternoon, revision felt futile, but also the only thing that was sensible to do. On one hand, Haneul was sure that she wouldn’t be able to learn anything she didn’t already know, and that at this point, she was just going over the same things so that she did not feel unproductive, but on the other, it was incredibly stupid to spend any time resting or doing something else, because she could forget crucial information in those minutes she spent occupying her mind on something that wasn’t exam-related. Cara had sunk back into her trance, and was staring so intensely at her Charms textbook that it was like she was trying to perform Legilimency on it, though whether she was having any success was yet unknown to Haneul. At five o’clock, Jaee Chan made a feeble suggestion that they all go and have dinner without their books, but it was such a lame suggestion that it was clear that even he didn’t think it was a good idea. Cara kept her nose in a book all throughout the meal, and it seemed that every fifth year student was clustered around the end of the table nearest to the doors to the Great Hall, all very quiet, only looking up from notes or books to furtively glance at their peers. 

Cara, and everyone else, did not come out of their revision trances until about half past five, when something that wasn’t a knot of students coming down for dinner appeared in the entrance hall. Dumbledore, the silver-bearded headmaster, had arrived. He usually always made an appearance at mealtimes, so it was not out of the ordinary to see him in this area of the castle, but it was the people accompanying him that caused a unanimous stir amongst all the fifth-years.

Dumbledore was in the company of about five or six old, wizened-looking witches and wizards. He looked about as twice as tall as some of them, though perhaps that was because a few of the group seemed to stoop with age. They were all, bar Dumbledore, wrapped in cloaks, and appeared to be listening to what he was saying to them with great interest.

“Yes, yes, we made it alright, I’m not pleased about those dementors at the gates, I must say.” A particularly aged, witch, whose skin looked like screwed-up old parchment, yelled. It appeared she had hearing problems, because she seemed quite unaware that she was shouting. 

Dumbledore inclined his head slightly. “I’m afraid they are not here with my blessing, Professor Marchbanks.” He said, not quite as loudly as she had, but at a higher volume than usual so that she could hear him. “The Ministry has deemed them necessary for the protection of the students.”   


“Blast to that!” Screeched a wizard nearer the back of the throng, which caused several nods throughout the group, though students who were listening in looked somewhat scandalised. “I’ve never liked the meddling ways of that Fudge.”

After this comment, Dumbledore started to usher the group up the marble staircase, most likely towards the staff room, clearly not wanting to provoke those students whose parents worked for the Minister, and cause any kind of uproar. Haneul also suspected that Dumbledore shared the examiner’s views on Cornelius Fudge, though did not want to make them clear in front of so many listening ears, as such things would be unprofessional. Privately, Haneul thought that even Dumbledore declaring his allegiance to Voldemort would not have struck up such terror as what was now coursing through everyone present. 

“That’s them!” Amaya gasped. “The examiners! They look so  _ strict _ !”

“That Marchbanks woman looks really old. What if she’s too old to tell what’s done right and what’s done wrong?”

“She won’t be. Dumbledore’s over a hundred, and he’s still as good as anything. She probably knows all the spells inside and out.”

“Small comfort.” Jae Chan did not look up from the table, which he was starting at like it was his now-closed spellbook. “She will deduct marks for absolutely anything wrong, even the smallest mistakes.”

The choice between going to bed early and probably not sleeping much, or staying up revising but being wrecked in the morning was a tough call. The atmosphere in the common room had reached a new high in terms of tension, and it was quite unclear what the best thing to do was. Nobody seemed able to look at their books for more than a few minutes before looking up and around the room, and the slightest movements would make at least five people jerk their heads up and glance frantically around the room. It seemed that nobody wanted to be the first to go to bed, because by going to bed, you were accepting that the final day before O.W.Ls was over, and submitting to the inevitability of them starting. Eventually, at about nine o’clock, someone rose from their seat. Predictably enough, it was Keira. She seemed quite unaware or unfazed by others perceiving her, and marched, quite upright, over to the door that led up to the dormitory, her bag slung over her shoulder. A general feeling swept about the room that Keira had never before been so respected by everyone there, but it was, in a way, quite admirable that she had been the first to break the unspoken tension. 

After Keira’s silent departure, people began to trickle from the common room, as expected, slowly packing away their things and bidding their friends in different dormitories goodnight. There was no pretence of wishing good sleep, as everyone was aware that only the extremely lucky, or the extremely naive, would have a relaxing end to the day. 

“I suppose we’d better go up, hadn’t we?” Haneul said, at last, about three quarters of an hour after Keira had left. “We’ll be too tired in the morning, otherwise.”

Amaya looked between Haneul and her notes, and sighed. “Yes, I think so.” She nodded. “There’s not much more we can do, I don’t think. It’s best to just… Accept defeat.”

“We’ve not been defeated, not yet.” Cara yawned. “It’s not over until it’s over.” 

“I suppose not,” Amaya reasoned, her head drooping onto Cara’s shoulder. 

They had been more affectionate, Haneul thought, upon seeing this small gesture, in public. It was nothing huge, but they were more likely to show the slightly touchy affection of those who transcended platonic friendship, and more likely to do it in front of others. Were they forgetting that the world’s eyes did not end at herself and Jae Chan? Or had they gained some confidence in the legitimacy and overall moral correctness of their relationship since sharing it with some. They were not exactly kissing in public, but Haneul thought that the observant and the curious could overlap to work out why the two of them were so physically close. Indeed, if someone looked at the dynamic of the four of them as friends, surely the difference between the pairing f Cara and Amaya, and any other pairings, would be easily noticeable. A platonic distance lay between all other pairings, although they were all certainly very relaxed and, to an extent that Haneul herself had lost sight of, open around each other. But nobody had said anything, and so Haneul put it down to her own powers of overanalysis on the small things that only mattered in specific contexts and had no real impact on the general environment. 

As if trying to replicate hell’s own fires, the sun rose hotter than it had done all year on the Monday May morning that the O.W.Ls were to begin. The whole dormitory rose early, chided out of bed not only by the glaring rays but the reminder that today may well be the beginning of the end for one’s academic career. The usual chatter that hung in pockets over the morning had taken a temporary leave to make room for swelling silence that said louder than any words that everyone was worrying that they had not revised enough. It was odd to feel at one with everyone else, after a year of general detachment, and very strange to be feeling that she might have the same thoughts and worries as Keira, to Haneul. As per usual, they met Jae Chan in the common room, but exchanged no more than a morning greeting, tense and concerned. 

There had always been a certain divide amongst each year group at Hogwarts, as they rarely mixed unless they had clubs or societies together outside of class hours. But today, there was a new feeling of divide, born of the sudden unified camaraderie that linked every fifth year, based on their mutual unknown. Although the younger students chatted away as if everything was quite normal, once again the fifth years in each house clustered together in silent tension, switching between taking bites of food and glancing at last minute definitions. 

When breakfast was over, the rest of the school went off to their lessons, and Professor McGonagall told all the fifth and seventh-years to wait in the Entrance Hall, whilst the Great Hall was prepared for the exams. After about ten minutes, Professor McGonagall emerged from the hall, told them all to put away their notes, and then had them all line up in alphabetical order. They filed inside, and there was no need for them to be reminded to stay quiet. The four house tables had been pushed against the walls, and instead replaced by more than a hundred individual desks, facing the staff table at the top of the hall. 

“Fifth years, fill up from the top of the hall. Seventh, fill up from the eleventh row, right here,” Professor McGonagall called from the middle of the hall. “No more talking now, please.”

Haneul sat down at a desk on the end of a row, and looked at the blank back page of the paper. What lay underneath it?

Professor McGonagall marched to the front of the hall once everyone was seated and quiet, looking at the now empty staff table, and stopped at a desk just in front of it. THere was a giant hourglass on it, as well as spare parchment, quills and ink. 

“You may start,” she said, loudly, and crisply, and turned over the hourglass. 

An instant rustle spread throughout the hall as every student turned over their paper and began to scan the first question. 

_ Question one: _

_ Describe a) the incantation of and b) the successful results of a disillusionment charm. _

A small smile played at Haneul’s lips as she remembered the lesson in which she had learned about this particular spell, and how it had been something she had instantly felt comfortable with. She dipped her quill in ink, and without pausing, started to write her answer.

They need not have revised quite so much, Haneul thought, as her eyes scanned the following questions, as none of them looked extremely obscure. Of course, Charms was widely regarded to be one of the easier subjects, but still, the depth to which they had revised seemed almost ludicrous when question seven asked for explanation of a levitating charm, which was a topic they had studied in first year, and was so second nature that it had hardly needed to be studied. There were a few complex questions, especially nearer the end of the paper, concerning the identification of problems when adding legs to inanimate objects, and a tricky moment where Haneul nearly mixed up ‘arresto momentum’ and a cushioning charm, but it was otherwise nothing that felt overly strenuous. 

Two hours after the hourglass had been turned over, and its contents had all trickled into the lower bulb, Professor McGonagall instructed the hall to stop writing, and with a flick of her wand, the scrolls on which they had been writing flew to the desk at the top of the room. 

“You may go, quietly,” she addressed them, sharply. “You are to be back in the west ante-chamber at two o’clock, for your practical exam. If you are returning to your common rooms, please do so without being overly noisy, the rest of the school is still in lessons.”

There was a scraping of chairs, as everyone stood up, and surged towards the doors. Haneul searched for Cara or Jae Chan amongst the crowd, knowing that there was no way she’d spot Amaya. Cara was behind her, two rows, and dawdling slightly, looking around for her friends, presumably, and Haneul quickly caught sight of her and made a beeline for her.

“How was it?” Were the first words out of Cara’s mouth once Haneul reached within earshot.

“Not too bad,” she replied, “We definitely revised enough."

Jae Chan reached them sooner than Amaya, having the advantage of longer legs and a surname that began later in the alphabet than her. He had more colour in his cheeks than he’d had in weeks.

“I don’t think that was very bad,” he said, lightly, when he reached them. “It wasn’t enjoyable, but it wasn’t as horrific as some people have claimed.”

“It was only the first one,” Amaya warned, having shouldered her way through the crowd. “We have to actually  _ do _ the spells this afternoon, and then we have to do this all again for harder subjects for another two weeks.”

There was about an hour until lunch, so they spent it in the common room, practicing for the upcoming practical exam. There were no first, second, third, or fourth years there, because they were all still in lessons, and only a handful of sixth years who had free periods and were doing homework or chatting quietly. The practicals were much more of a strange unknown, not because they had never been examined on their spell casting, but because it would be their first time performing magic in an evaluatory setting in front of someone who was not their teacher, but instead a different professor who knew nothing of their usual, day-to-day skills. If they did better than usual, it would be good, and the examiner would think them capable and competent, but Haneul was more worried that if she did not meet her usual standards, that the examiner would have no way of knowing that her underperformance was exam-day jitters rather than real incompetence. 

After lunch, for which the house tables had been returned to their normal places, they lingered in the ante-chamber that Professor McGonagall had mentioned, waiting for two o’clock to arrive. 

“It’ll be in alphabetical order, won’t it?” Whispered Amaya. There was no rule about quietness, but it felt wrong to make a lot of noise. 

“Probably,” Haneul whispered back. “So you’ll be first out of any of us.”

“And I’ll be last,” Cara said, shakily. “Tell us what it’s like, when you’ve done it, won’t you?” Cara pleaded. 

“Of course I will.” Amaya rolled her eyes. “Why wouldn’t I?”

The clock on the wall struck two at that moment, and Professor Lupin appeared at the door that led from the chamber into the Great Hall. He had a warm, encouraging smile on his face. 

“The exam is about to begin. Now, there’s no need to worry, just go to the examiner that you’re told to, and don’t stress if you feel unable to do something, just let them know and you’ll be asked a different question.” He glanced around at the pale faces staring back at him. “Please try to be as quiet as possible from now, to help your peers to focus, and when you leave the exam, try not to make a lot of noise either.” Then, he called out the first five names, and five terrified-looking fifth year students filed into the hall. 

The first person that Haneul really knew well to go into the exam was Olivia, who was called in the second group, but she, and the rest, did not come back into the chamber after they had completed the test, so there was no knowing how it went, or what it was quite like. Professor Lupin, who re-entered the chamber every ten minutes or so to call a new set of names, always stood between the gap in the door and the students, so that they could not see inside. The policy of total silence was not maintained, as they were all muttering incantations to each other, and occasionally poking someone with their wands as they practiced and movements. 

When Amaya was called, Haneul watched her shuffle, trembling towards the hall, taking a last fleeting glance back at her friends before the door closed. Jae Chan, too, was called before Haneul, but he did not seem as scared, or maybe he was just more adept at hiding his anxiety, though his wand hand did shake slightly, she observed, just before Lupin closed the door on the chamber. 

When at last, Haneul heard her name, along with four others who had sat around her during the written exam, she felt as if she might be sick. The hall was not back in complete exam formation, instead there were five desks arranged along one long end of it, and behind each sat one of the old witches and wizards who had arrived on Sunday.

“Go right to the end, Professor Hasling is free.” Lupin offered a last, warm smile to the students he had just called forward. 

Professor Hasling looked very old, but was probably the youngest examiner in the room, Haneul judged after stealing quick glances at the others. Her hair was already grey, but growing in white, and her face was lined, though not quite as lined as Professor Marchbanks’ had looked on Sunday. She peered up at Haneul through large blue eyes that reminded her of Cara’s, in a small way, but a way that was nonetheless comforting. 

“Shin, is it?” She did not seem to be too deaf, either, because her rickety old voice was a fairly normal volume. 

Haneul nodded.

“Excellent. Sit down, my dear, and then we’ll start.”

Haneul sat down and tried not to shake. She thought she was doing a rather good job of it, too, and silently paid Occlumency the credit for this ability to regulate extreme emotions. 

“Now, if you could, turn this plate green for me.”

Overall, the practical didn’t go badly at all. Haneul was particularly pleased when she was asked to perform a disillusionment charm on a frog, and thought she might have achieved full marks on that one, the frog nearly went completely invisible. She was not sure if she had done herself justice on engorgement charms, and thought that the egg cup that Professor Hasling had asked her to grow to the size of a wine goblet was a little small, but the Hufflepuff next to her grew a rat to the size of a dog because he was too overzealous about his engorgement charm, and Haneul would rather not have ended up with a mistake like that. She thought she had probably passed the exam, though she didn’t want to take anything for granted, just in case there had been some terrible mistake and she ended up failing it. 

After the exam was over, she and all the others who had finished at the same time were directed out of the Great Hall, into the Entrance Hall. Neither Jae Chan or Amaya was there, so Haneul assumed they had gone to the common room, and decided to return there too, because she knew Cara would probably be a while. 

The corridors were mostly empty, as lessons were still going for other years. Upon passing a classroom, there would be a small snatch of noise, whether it be a single murmur of a teacher giving instruction, or a chorus of students chatting as they got on with their work. Haneul had not yet experienced the castle being so quiet during the daytime, when the sun still hung high and beamed rays through the windows. Usually, these halls of thought were dark, lit only by torches, flickering and shifting which made them seem more liminal than they did today. Haneul’s thoughts didn’t wander down the paths of fear, or the nature of goodness, and she wondered if it was because of the light, or because of the circumstance. She had, in previous weeks, concluded that she lost her conscious sense of direction on the path between the dungeons and Ravenclaw Tower because she never left Snape’s office without a certain measure of things that needed to be considered, owing to his way of talking in a manner that never truly confirmed anything, even if he have decisively affirmative or negative answers to questions.

No, today Haneul did not have anything deeper than her Charms O.W.L to consider, and so today the halls of thought were just halls, and served the simple purpose of somewhere to put her feet. Some days, they would transport her, but today, she thought she was transporting herself, because there was nothing in her inner mind that needed examining to the point where muscle memory of the route to Ravenclaw Tower was necessary to stop her from totally losing her way. 

Amaya and Jae Chan were sitting at the four’s usual table, but there didn’t seem to be any books or papers between them, and instead they were, it transpired, talking about their practical exams.

“I think it went well,” Amaya was saying. “I don’t think I got anything  _ really _ wrong, but I think the legs on my teacup could have been a bit stronger, they might have broken if the examiner hadn’t stopped me at the very moment that he did.” She looked up as Haneul’s shadow crossed the sunlit table. “How’d it go?”

“I think it went alright,” she said, vaguely. “Nothing exploded, so that’s probably a good sign. What about you two?”

“Well, I think, as I was just saying to Chan.” Amaya inclined her head towards him. He certainly looked less terrified than he had beforehand. 

“Yes, I think it was alright. Although, the woman who examined me shouted a bit. But after I got used to that, it wasn’t so bad.”

“She was probably just deaf,” Haneul said, knowingly. “Mine wasn’t, though, so they won’t all be like that.”

“Who did you have?” Amaya asked. 

“She’s called Professor Hasling. She was sitting right at the far end of the row.” 

“Oh, her. Someone from Slytherin nearly set fire to the desk when she examined him, during my exam,” Jae Chan said, nonchalantly. He had a knack for doing this, saying things that would usually be conveyed with scandalised or expressive tones in an unusually casual way. 

“Really?” Amaya clapped her hand to her mouth, but was looking amused. “Nothing that exciting happened in mine.”

They continued to swap stories about the exam, and the written paper from the morning, until Cara returned about forty minutes later, looking as though she had just stayed up for three consecutive days. 

“That,” she began, throwing herself into a chair and disregarding the confused looks from her three friends, “was something.”

“Did it go very badly?” Jae Chan asked, his brown eyes full of advance sympathy.

“Not for me.” She waved a hand, brushing off the concern. “But for Fred Weasley, I assume it did.”

“What happened?” Amaya asked, shifting forward in her chair, a sort of living curiosity on her face.

“Well. He was just doing his exam, like any of us, and then, there was a massive bang. Sounded like something had exploded. But somehow, he’d managed to turn a mouse into a flock of parrots, and of course they were frightened by the noise, and started squawking and flapping around. Three of the examiners, and Lupin, were needed to get rid of them.” She grinned. “It was funny, though. I’d say Fred did it on purpose, you know, to liven things up, but that’s N.E.W.T level magic, and he wouldn’t know how to do it unless by accident.”

“Why does everything exciting happen to  _ you _ ? I don’t even think anyone made a big mistake in my exam,” Amaya groaned, rolling her eyes. 

“Change your last name to something beginning with W, then you’ll always be near the Weasley twins for something like this. That’ll bring some more excitement into your life, they’re good fun.”

Although it would have been nice to keep relaxing, they were only one day into the ordeal, and it was necessary to keep revising, especially because tomorrow’s exam would be Transfiguration, which was second only to Potions when it came to difficulty level, or at least that was the general consensus. Like Charms, incantations and wand movements needed to be learned, but as well as those, there was a lot more complicated theory and definitions that might come up on the written paper. It was also harder to practice for the practical portion, because they did not know how to reverse quite a few of the spells, as Professor McGonagall usually did that after the lesson was over, as the syllabus did not require the knowledge of counter-spells. As the afternoon turned to evening, more people, both fifth and seventh years, and those from the year groups that were still free.

The Transfiguration written exam, which was presided over by a very grim-faced Snape, was about as difficult as it had been cracked up to be by the various rumours and assumptions that had been passed around the fifth year over the last few weeks. Haneul wondered, in a fleeting moment when she looked up at the hourglass to see how long was left in the exam, if Snape had written it, because it contained questions from such intricate and contrasting topics that it resembled the usual, gruelling standards of the end-of-year exams that he dealt out every June. Whilst in the Charms exam, there had been a somewhat slower atmosphere, the feeling that everyone was taking their time carefully, there was not a single moment during this that the hurried scratching of quills could not be heard. Haneul had also finished the Charms written exam with a few minutes to spare and look back over her paper, but she, and possibly everyone else, was writing right up until the last second, when Snape told them to put their quills down and flicked his wand, which returned all of the ink-covered scrolls to him. 

By the end of the practical, Haneul no longer underestimated O.W.Ls. She had been examined by Professor Hasling again, but it had been far harder. She thought she had probably done alright, but felt that her vanishing spell might not have been completely perfect, as she thought she could still see part of her rat’s tail, though Professor Hasling did seem pleased as she waved her own wand to make the rat reappear before moving onto  _ fera verto _ . She wondered, half-asleep as she trailed back to Ravenclaw Tower, how she had had the energy to consider things such as halls of thought the previous day, or take real notice of the weather. Jae Chan and Amaya, who were already finished with their exams, were not as lively as they had been the previous day, and had not dawdled to share results of their practicals, but were already revising for the following day’s Herbology. 

The good thing about Herbology, Cara pointed out, when she returned from her practical exam, was that there were no special incantations to learn. 

“It’s easier, because your answers aren’t up to interpretation. You’re either right, or you’re wrong.”

“I don’t see how that makes it easier.” Haneul scratched her head and turned her book upside down to try and better understand the composition of a fanged geranium. “You don’t get any marks for the benefit of the doubt, and there’s no room for the examiner to decide that you probably know the subject, but just haven’t worded it right.”

“But you can just earn definitions,” Jae Chan reasoned, yawning. “And regurgitate them.” 

The exam was not bad. It certainly wasn’t  _ easy _ , or as simple as just memorising definitions and writing them down, but Haneul reflected that it could have been worse, even if she did realise as soon as her paper had zoomed away from her and into Professor Burbage’s outstretched arms that she had labelled the diagram of a Dittany plant wrongly. But AMaya said she had too, so hopefully it wouldn’t mean a failure. The practical went much better, Haneul thought, as this was the type of Herbology that they were all used to - Professor Sprout did not usually set them written questions in their lessons, but instead they did hands-on work, caring for certain types of plants and investigating their different properties. It ended much earlier than practicals did usually, too, so that left more time for revision for Defence Against the Dark Arts, which would be held the following day. 

Defence Against the Dark Arts was by far the favourite subject of almost everyone in the year, largely owing to Professor Lupin’s teaching. He had, by now, a reputation for being both good at his job and exceedingly kind. He managed to make things enjoyable, whilst also teaching. He had not said what grade that they needed to achieve in order to continue the subject for N.E.W.Ts, but it was widely assumed that an ‘Exceeds Expectations’ would be needed to progress as, even with Lupin’s teaching, it was not an easy subject. Thus, everyone was revising hard, with hopes to continue the subject beyond that year. 

It had paid off, at least in Haneul’s case. She came out of the written exam feeling that she had definitely passed it, as she hadn’t found any of the questions all that hard. She felt she had especially succeeded on the questions about dark creatures, which had always seemed to be a specialty of Lupin, and, thanks to the over-excessive notes that Snape had forced them to write in the lesson he had covered, the long question on the Imperius Curse. The practical exam was actually enjoyable, and not too nerve-wracking either. By this point, Haneul had done this type of exam twice already, and so walking into the hall to face one of the wizened examiners did not frighten her. For this practical, she was not examined by Professor Hasling, but instead Professor Sprout directed her towards Professor Marchbanks instead. Although she had seemed quite deaf on the evening of arrival, she did not shout too loudly at Haneul, and despite being rather reserved, looked quite pleased at the variety of counter-jinxes and spells she demonstrated. 

Ancient Runes made Haneul realise that she only enjoyed the subject because she had her friends with her in lessons, not because it was a genuinely fun one. In fact, the translation was so dull that the two-hour exam felt comparable to History of Magic lessons, and time seemed to pass by so slowly that it was a surprise to Haneul that it was not lunchtime when the exam was over. Still, it hadn’t gone too awfully, and she and Cara spent the lunch period comparing translations, and had either both done very well, or both done abysmally. The afternoon was free, because Ancient Runes did not have a practical portion, so it was devoted to potions. 

Although potions was one of Haneul’s best subjects, this did not mean that she had no need to revise from it. Whether inherited or simply natural, her skill could not exist without sufficient practice for it. They were all used to writing ridiculous essays - Snape displayed the unique skill of setting intricate and near-impossible questions for them - but when confronted with learning everything, it was made clear exactly how much they had to learn. 

“I don’t think this is possible.” Amaya’s notes were spread out in front of her, and taking up a great deal of floor space.

“It’s  _ possible _ .” Haneul replied, flipping through her barely-opened textbook. “It must be, somehow.”

“The old bat managed to do it, we should be able to.” Amaya scowled. 

“Maybe he cheated on his exams,” Jae Chan offered. The sun had already set, but even with the whole weekend ahead of them revise, nobody wanted to go to bed. 

“I doubt it. He accused me of plagiarism in fourth year, and threatened me with expulsion,” Cara said absently.

“Really?” Jae Chan looked up.

“Not really,” Amaya cut in. “He said her essay sounded  _ similar _ to something from a random textbook she’d never read. And he said  _ if _ she had cheated, he would make sure she was expelled. But either he didn’t actually care enough to check, or he couldn’t honestly reach the conclusion that she had.”

Haneul was about to say that if he had really wanted to know, Snape would have just used Legilimency, as she had gathered that he was fairly competent in the skill, when she realised that of course, Amaya, Cara and Jae Chan would be instantly suspicious as to why she knew this, or had even troubled to figure it out, and she would not be free of questions until she explained why she knew this, or at least came up with another viable story, which was something she did not have the energy for at present. Luckily, she was sitting a little away from the other three, so they did not notice her momentary shift. 

The whole of the weekend was spent on Potions. Haneul thanked whatever lay dormant or active in the sky that muggles frequently looked to for support that they had this weekend in which to revise, and by the end of it was fully confident that her skills in potions were neither innate nor inherited - but simply a phantom of being slightly more predisposed than everyone else around her. 

But the written paper was not as horrific as everyone had prepared for it to be. Unlike Snape’s usual exams, it did not cover such broad and deep topics, and instead focussed mainly on things that they had learned during that year, or only shallow things in older material. It was also oddly peaceful in the practical. They had it in the main hall, instead of the dungeons where lessons were usually held, and there were also spells placed on each of their desks to stop anyone from being able to look at anyone else’s work, so it was quiet, and oddly focused. There was a small catastrophe when a seventh-year at the back set fire to her desk, and the exam had to be paused for ten minutes to put it out and restore the table. 

“That’s the worst of it over now, isn’t it?” Haneul asked, as they walked out of the hall at four o’clock. “Only three left, and it’s just Muggle Studies, Astronomy and History of Magic now.”

Amaya nodded, looking blissful. “And, I’ve just brewed my last potion. So, I can say that I’m happy now.”

“Don’t talk too soon.” Jae Chan warned. “You can’t be sure.”

Amaya just smiled back at him. “So optimistic, you are.” 

He raised an eyebrow. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Well, if you’re too optimistic, you can get disappointed easily.” Amaya said, tilting her head to the side.


	28. Apogee

It was finally over. It was strange that that Thursday afternoon did not have to be devoted to revision, and that they were free to laze in the grounds, sleep, or really just do anything, whilst the rest of the school were still in their year-end exams. Some students still had exams the following day, either Divination or Arithmancy, but as Haneul and her friends did not take that subject, they did not have to worry about it. They spent the afternoon in the grounds, because it was quieter there. It felt like the first time in several years that they had been able to just relax. Haneul had had an eye on Keira, who was also finished with exams, but she had not seen her since they had sat down for their History of Magic exam at nine o’clock that morning. Haneul wondered if she was no longer so withdrawn, or whether she would remain quiet for a long time. 

A certain heaviness hung over the grounds that had come in the form of the execution of Hagrid’s hippogriff. The case had finally come to a decision, according to Amaya, and the decision was finalised. Haneul did not know Hagric, and indeed had never met his Hippogriff, but the feeling that death would greet the grounds as the sun set meant that as if a dementor was lurking out of sight, there was a certain feeling that something was not quite right, and it chided them inside before the sun was gone, and Cara had to drop Amaya’s hand. Nobody was left in the grounds by then - nobody wanted to be within distance of the axe as it severed life from the innocent. Except, it seemed, Harry Potter, and his friends, who left the castle as Haneul came back in. But they knew Hagrid well, everyone knew that. They would want to comfort him in this time of need. 

When the sun rose on the first Friday of June, it was blazingly hot. Some were still fretting about their remaining exam, but overall everyone was quite cheerful. Nothing seemed to be wrong, as ever, until it was breakfast time, and the houses began to mix, and whatever gossip that had been stored up in common rooms and dormitories started to permeate between the tables.

And it was about the hippogriff that they talked. Because, according to a Gryffindor girl who was talking animatedly to her friend, it had escaped, and Hagrid had spent the night drinking and celebrating. The overall feeling was quite cheerful, because the idea of the condemned but innocent making a successful plight for freedom was inspiring, even if it had been just a Hippogriff. Haneul wondered if she was the only one to notice the murmurs and whispers that were being exchanged at the Slytherin table, and the ways they were looking at the rest of the school, as if they were superior in their knowledge, and safer for it. Because they were distracted, most likely by the welcome news of Hagrid’s accidental victory, no one else saw Haneul sidle up to a group of Slytherins, carefully eavesdropping on their conversation, that they did not seem to be making any real effort to keep private. 

“Do you think it’s actually true, what Snape said?” The first said to his friend. 

“Well, he resigned, didn’t he? He wouldn’t have resigned if it wasn’t.”

“So all this time, he’s been a werewolf. That’s why he missed classes? I always knew, ever since the start of the year when I first saw him, that Lupin was no good.”

Shock had never been something that Haneul really experienced, but a certain feeling of being outside her body came over her for a brief moment, the sensation that she was not entirely present in the world but rather looking at it from a higher and detached point of being. Professor Lupin, the kind, the gentle, the mellow, a werewolf? It did not fit, when all descriptions of the creatures were feral and deranged. But why did Snape know, when Snape did not have any particular liking for Lupin? Whilst the animosity explained why Snape would tell his house about it, it did not explain why he knew. Thoughts were beginning to race between the outer and inner parts of Haneul’s mind and she could only think of one place where they might be answered. 

Why did she feel the same as she had felt those months ago when descending to the dungeons, diary in hand? She had thought she felt nothing then, but now matched the two situations by the burning curiosity inside her that threatened to spill out in another way. Her hand, as ever remained completely still as she raised it to knock on Lupin’s door, but there was no such thing as emptiness in her mind or heart. 

“Come in.” If Lupin was upset, or angry, his voice did not show it, and somehow his mellow tones made it a little better. As she opened the door with slightly less force than she had thought she would use, flashes of curiosity, recognition and understanding crossed Lupin’s face in quick succession. He did not say anything, however, as she stepped over the threshold. 

He looked greyer than he had all year, but not defeated. He was beginning to empty his drawers and pack his belongings, but looked oddly peaceful for someone in his situation. Whilst he was certainly tired, likely from the transformation, which was said to be horrible, he seemed to have accepted the reality of his situation, and was at one with it. This all struck Haneul as odd, considering how emotional she felt, and how she expected Lupin to be. But then, she knew well that it was not impossible for someone to hide their feelings, and indeed knew that she herself could, when she felt that she wanted to, keep her emotions under remarkable control. 

“You resigned.” It was not a question, but it was not an accusation. “Because people found out you’re a werewolf?” She had always thought she would be disgusted by such creatures, but felt only pity and compassion for him. 

“Yes. I’m afraid something happened last night which greatly endangered the students here. I cannot risk it happening again.”

“What happened?” About a hundred other questions were bundled into that one phrase. 

Lupin walked over to the door, and shut it, before coming back to face her. 

“I cannot explain everything. I do not think that it’s my place. But, as last night was the full moon, I transformed as I usually do, only I was loose, in the grounds, and thus placed every student at great risk.” He studied her face. “You are angry. Is it because I have lied? Once, to everyone, but twice, to you.”

She shook her head. “I’m not angry with you.” She shrugged. “I can understand lying if it’s for a good reason.”

Lupin’s nod communicated far more understanding than any words could have done. 

“I don’t know how much it will help you,” he said, warmly but cautiously. “But I am not angry, or resentful of Severus about this.” He gazed out of the window with the same wistful expression from many months earlier. 

“Why not?” She did not doubt the sincerity of his statement, even without any explanation. 

“Have you heard of the Wolfsbane potion?” He seemed only to ask this because he did not know how to begin, and did not wait for the obvious answer. “I’m sure you know that to some extent, it makes the transformation a little easier. I have, for the past year, been able to transform more peacefully, and be tame for the full moon. It is something I have been unable to experience until this year. Before then, my transformations have been painful, and unpredictable. It has been like last night every month, not knowing what I might do as a wolf. And this relative comfort has been possible only because Severus made the Wolfsbane potion for me, every month. Perfectly.” A smile played at his lips. “I do not believe he told the Slytherins about my condition in a planned, intrinsically nasty way. He could have done much worse to me during this year, perhaps with every reason, but he didn’t. What happened was a product of several events that I think, for the sake of those involved, I will keep private.”

“You’ve lost your job, and in the case of many of the students here, respect. Isn’t that bad enough?”   


“I will not pretend to enjoy it, nor will I pretend that I can be Severus’ bosom friend following this. But I cannot harbour real anger towards him, when I know that it was an action that was done in the heat of the moment, and when I consider not only the events of last night, but years in the past, when I think I dealt much worse, or at least allowed much worse to be dealt.”

“What do you mean?” Lupin’s tale had not entirely made things better, only a little clearer and sharper. 

Lupin looked uncomfortable. “I again, fear I am betraying the privacies of others.” He sighed. “Perhaps you do or do not know that I, amongst others, was at Hogwarts when Severus was. We were not friends, nor were any of the people I associated with. But I allowed those I was close with to cause him a certain discomfort. I do not believe that it was entirely unreciprocated, but, I wonder sometimes, that it was not an equal balance.” 

“Something that happened years ago doesn’t justify something like this, so long later,” Haneul retorted. She couldn’t feel anything but sorrow on behalf of Lupin. She could not boast of an extremely close relationship with him, but she had always liked him, and thought him good, and always meaning well. And certainly undeserving of this. 

“I don’t know. I have continued to feel guilt for the part I played in it. Not as guilty as I used to, but certainly, I feel it in one way or another. I know that I cannot ever really alleviate your feelings of anger, or whatever else you might feel. You have a high level of stubbornness on both sides, but I can at least affirm to you that I do not feel angry. Certainly, I am unhappy that my time at Hogwarts has come to an end so fast, but I don’t feel as if I have been done such a wrong. It was always going to come out, that I am a werewolf. I would rather it be a day like today, when I can leave in relative peace.”

“But, everyone here knows that you’re a good teacher. They shouldn’t care, now that they know you’re not really dangerous.”

Lupin looked pained for the first time. 

“I  _ am _ dangerous. Those like you, who have been raised by more… open-minded people are more accepting, and compassionate. You see me as a man, not a wolf, and you are able to deny that I am dangerous, because you have not seen it. I could have bitten a student last night. And most parents would not like a werewolf to teach their children. We have a reputation for being dangerous, even when in a human form. It is best for me to go.” He smiled. “But I will not forget the year I spent here. Hogwarts was always the happiest place for me, and I have seen how it is true, even in adulthood.” 

Habeul opened her mouth, but Lupin forestalled her. 

“I know you, and perhaps some others, will think it is unfair. But I have made my decision, and I will leave. I take comfort in hoping that one day, I will meet those that have shown me such kindness again, in the future. 

It wasn’t fair. It didn’t matter how many times Haneul rearranged the events in her mind, or how much she tried to theorise on the vague things that Lupin had mentioned, it did not make sense that he was not angry, and that he was able to go without wanting some form of revenge. Haneul was quite sure that it had something to do with the escape of the hippogriff, though she did not know how. Rumours were flying around that Sirius Black had something to do with it, and was also sure that in one way or another, Snape had something to do with it too. It had to be more than just a hippogriff, and surely if Sirius Black was anything to do with it, then it was definitely bigger than that. The dementors were gone from Hogwarts, but Black had not been caught. Some people were saying that the dementors had made another mistake, like when they had stormed the Quidditch pitch, but it did not fit in with the hippogriff escaping. Or perhaps the two events happening on one night were just coincidental. 

What annoyed Haneul the most was the reaction to Lupin’s resignation, which only became well-known news after lunch, after he was already gone. After hearing that he was a werewolf, many people said that they were glad he had resigned, and thought it irresponsible for Dumbledore to have hired a werewolf in the first place. Lupin seemed to have been right that he would face prejudice and hatred, and Haneul hated it. Had they forgotten when only a week ago they had revised hard for their Defence Against the Dark Arts O.W.L in order to show him how well he had taught? Had they forgotten how much they had enjoyed his lessons, and thoroughly abused Snape for covering Lupin’s lesson, now that they were approving of Snape for stepping in, and some even for telling everyone the truth?

And that was something else irreconcilable. Usually, Haneul had neither a positive or negative attitude towards visiting him to practice Occlumency, and had even thought she was beginning to understand an otherwise highly guarded and private individual. But she suddenly felt more distant from him than she ever had, and in some twisted way, betrayed. After all, even her own mother had said that the two of them were alike in some ways, and over the past months, she had begun to not completely hate this idea. She had, without realising it, come to understand and accept his intricate natures such as how stonily impassive he was, and, in a quiet way, she felt that at some point, he had shown great bravery in one way or another. But something like this was not brave, it was petty. She did not want to face him, not only because Snape had done something horrible right in front of her, but because she knew that before too long, he would find out that she was angry. And, hypocritically, he would probably chastise her for it. 

Was it the coolness of the dungeons that made the uncomfortable feelings that had laid in the forefront of Haneul’s mind fade slightly to the back? Or was it because when confronted with this space that was so clearly Snape’s, she thought for the first time about his side, in the ways that Lupin had talked about? No, he wasn’t the first that she would have imagined to get so angry that he would do something like that, but Haneul could imagine some situations where she might have felt inclined to rage at or about her adversary, especially if that person had been her adversary for so long. But, she considered as the office grew closer, she didn’t think she would ever actually do it, no matter how much she wanted to. 

Snape showed no signs of any physical ordeal. Or perhaps he just didn’t show it, because he was naturally fairly unhealthy looking, pale and sallow. He did not look different, but when had he ever looked different? Haneul was sure that she would not be able to see it if he was really experiencing some kind of hardship anyway, and didn’t find that she cared, which seemed to feel different from usual. Haneul was not sure if she was matching his impassive gaze, or whether she looked visibly contemptuous. 

“Clear your mind,” he said, lazily. “You cannot get anywhere with protection if you bring extreme emotions into a scenario.”

So he did know, and he could perfectly detect the anger. 

“You’re asking me not to let my emotions get the better of me? You?” She found that accusations softened the sharp corners poking to her mind. 

“Hypocritical, I am aware,” Snape replied, flatly. “But yes, I am. If one has to display weakness, it is at least worthwhile to recognise it and advise others not act the same.”

It was infuriating that he saw what he had done as weak, because it would now be baseless for Haneul to accuse Snape of it, because it would not bother him to hear it when he already knew it. 

“What did he do? What did Professor Lupin do that made you- made you do  _ that _ ?” The words tumbled from her mouth though she had already committed to not trying to understand it. 

His lips twitched. Was it in mockery, or in sardonic humour at something else?

“That is between me and him. I will not pretend to be sorry about it, but I admit that it was a… weak, and possibly cowardly thing to do. He had humiliated me.” Was Snape defending himself to himself, Haneul, or both?

“Is one day’s humiliation worth what you inflicted on him?” 

“Perhaps not. Again, I am not trying to justify myself. I know that it would never be enough for someone like you, since-”

“Since I liked Lupin?”

“No, since you are so stubborn that once your mind is made, it will not be easily undone. Even I have come to be well aware of that.” His eyebrows briefly pushed together, as if he was annoyed that she was not easily manipulated. 

It was strange that Snape was not offering up a hundred and one excuses about why he had exposed Lupin. Because he seemed like the first to defend each and every one of his actions. Or did he not care what Haneul thought of him? But that did not seem right, one way or another, even though he had always showed a level of disregard for anyone’s opinion on him, his actions had shown that to some degree, he  _ did  _ care about what other people thought. If Lupin had in some way humiliated Snape, and then he had reacted by losing Lupin his job, then clearly he did not want to be the lowest of the pile, and had dealt with that accordingly. 

“So you won’t tell me either, about what happened, why the dementors are gone, and why Lupin ended up running around the grounds as a werewolf when he is supposedly meant to be taking Wolfsbane potion?”

“How much has she told you?” Snape raised an eyebrow.

“Virtually nothing. “I spoke to him before he left, and he only told me that he didn’t hate you, because he thought that what you did was done without any premeditated thought, in a single moment of anger. And he thought that, because you’d made him Wolfsbane potion all year.” She did not break the eye contact between them, in an accusatory way. 

“So you have reached your conclusions of hating me based on evidence that is contrasting to the testimony of the victim?”

“You’re avoiding my question.” In reality, Haneul had realised that she was being about as petty as Snape had been in remaining angry after Lupin had said she shouldn’t. 

“I cannot tell you what happened. It is not that I do not want you to know,” he forestalled her, “but I do not know everything either. What truly went on is between Dumbledore, and Potter.” He spat this last name with a more forceful contempt than Haneul had ever seen from anyone. “All I am aware of is that Lupin was not in his office when I took him a goblet of that potion, and that he was instead consorting with others, elsewhere.”

“With who?”

“Various people.” He said, vaguely. “I fear that by telling you, I would plant falsehoods in your mind.”

This had confirmed what Haneul had thought all along, that Sirius Black had something to do with what had gone on the previous Friday. Because that was the topic that had been the most contested that year, and the possibility of Black’s innocence or guilt had been something that Snape had refused to confirm or deny. And who else had anything to do with the dementors’ presence at the school? 

“You think that I am lying.” He said, after a pause.

“No, I don’t.” Haneul shook her head. “I think you’re cautious. But I think, and you think so too, that there’s something, or even several things, that you don’t know.” 

“I am sure there is plenty I do not know. But yes, I am cautious. I do not want to plant an idea in your head that I am not sure of myself. So I will say nothing, not for lack of trust, but for lack of my own verification of the facts.”

If there were new revelations about that Thursday in June, Haneul heard nothing of it. The school had reacted to Lupin’s resignation in many different ways, some glad that he was gone now that they knew his true werewolf status, others upset because they still liked him, no matter who he was underneath. Haneul rested firmly within that camp. She had decided, without any real conflict, that no matter what she concluded about Snape’s morality, she would never think Lupin a bad person. He would always be the kind teacher who had tried, in his way, to extend a warm hand to give solace to a burning question that had been unanswered all those months ago. She would always put him in that category of the unfailingly good, those who possessed the intrinsic ability to be good, and did not have to try hard to do so. She had not known him well, or for long, but she had not needed to in order to fully estimate his character. He seemed, despite the fact that he had hidden a secret for so long, open, and welcoming. But she seemed alone in this particular view, because most people liked him because of how nice of a teacher he had been, but had not experienced how kind he was, and how much he really had wanted to help, but yet still be sensitive to others. 

Haneul was also alone in assessing the possible morality of Snape. Or at least, if anyone was questioning his actions, they did not talk about it. She realised that the issue was that most people already disliked Snape, because they knew so little about him. So they did not feel any sense of betrayal in what he had done, but only saw it as a typical action of him, something that already fitted with his pre-established character, the portrait of an already spiteful person who gave out too much homework and exposed secrets for no reason. Because in the eyes of the masses, it had been unprovoked. But Haneul had guessed, or rather concluded that, despite the vagueness of the descriptions from both men about the Thursday in June, something had happened to provoke Lupin’s exposure. It did not matter whether it was provocation that justified anything, but it was, nonetheless, a provocation. 

Curiosity that had not filled Haneul since years before, when she had hungrily searched library books for the wrong names, had returned in the form of wanting to know every small detail of that night. She felt some sort of innate need to know it, because whilst she did not know, she could never decide whether to leave her anger behind. Yes, Lupin had told her not to be angry, and that he was not either, and Haneul believed that he was truthful in that, but she had come to realise that over the last months of knowing Snape, she had begun to unconsciously think of him with a certain goodness. It was not the same pure goodness that Jae Chan had, but it was a goodness that existed through regret and some deep conflict within himself - although she did not know what it was that he regretted so deeply, or why he was so twisted against himself. But he had defected. He had, despite all else, the capacity to understand the right thing, and to turn towards that, and it was the first point of his goodness. Perhaps plenty of other death eaters had seen the reasons to step away from that life, but he was one of the few who had done it, had not only seen the reasons, but had decided that doing the right thing was more good than being comfortably wrong. 

There was nobody to turn to for reassurance on this matter. She already knew that there was nobody who could tell her what had happened that night, and that the only person who seemed to know Snape’s reasons for defecting was Snape himself, and he would not tell her those before he had decided to. And so in the weeks that were meant to be free, Haneul was once again entrapped in her own mind as she tried to understand why she was unable to follow Lupin’s last instructions. Was it because she cared? People who didn’t care about anything Snape did were not bothered by another of his actions, but perhaps in a twisted way, she now felt some form of attachment to the idea of his goodness, and that now it was in question, it was painful. Because she had committed herself to thinking that he was good, and stopped feeling quite so unhappy about the fact that they had similarities, she was injured by this rude change of tune. 

It was brilliantly warm on the last day of term. Most of what had passed that was bad seemed to have evaporated in the summer heat and the overall euphoria that greeted Hogwarts at this time of the year. As was usual of the general Hogwarts population, things that had passed were forgotten, because there was no need to remember them. The hippogriff’s escape was nothing but a funny thing to gossip about, Sirius Black was not real enough to be afraid of now that the dementors were gone, and Lupin had vanished from their minds, only brought back up when there was the occasional wondering at who would fill the once again empty post. 

“Maybe Snape did what he did deliberately, so he could get the Defence Against the Dark Arts job.” Cara was not being all that serious, Haneul knew, as they sat on a sunny patch of lawn, enjoying their final day. 

“Nonsense.” Haneul replied, unsure if she was defending him or not. “He didn’t get the job after what happened to Lockhart, and he would have had plenty of time to apply. Plus, I think Dumbledore would see through that strategy. I wouldn’t give someone a job if they had usurped their possible predecessor.”

Amaya frowned. “He better not get the job. I actually  _ like _ Defence Against the Dark Arts. I don’t want it to be ruined by Snape.” 

“I already told you that you’ll be doing potions.” Jae Chan said. He was lying down, stretched out, looking peaceful. 

“And I already told you that you’re crazy.” Amaya leant forward to lightly smack his cheek, before she returned her head to Cara’s shoulder. 

Jae Chan sat up. “Are you two public now?” He asked, looking at the closeness between Cara and Amaya.

“Not technically.” Cara said. She started playing with Amaya’s fingers. “But… nobody can see us right now, and…”

“It’s annoying to hide all the time.” Amaya finished. “Honestly, I don’t think I care about what other people think. You two are supportive, and that’s enough.” She shifted her head slightly, exposing the left side of her face to the sun. “And we won’t see each other for a while now, so I have to make the most of this while I can.” 

“That’s not true.” Cara pointed out. “We can meet up in Diagon Alley, once we get booklists for next year.

“But we won’t get those until O.W.L results come out, and that won’t be for about another month.” Haneul pointed out. She did not like being so consumed by confusion, but she was going to enjoy it even less without her friends to distract her. 

“Don’t talk about that.” Jae Chan placed a finger to his lips and frowned, the sunlight dancing off his eyes. “I’m pretending that it doesn’t exist.”

“You’re supposed to be  _ positive _ .” Amaya said. “Uplifting, and all that.”

Jae Chan looked amused. “Perhaps, over the summer, that can be what you learn to do, just in case I fail all my exams and get expelled.”

“If you fail your O.W.Ls, I’ll take potions.” Amaya said, rolling her eyes. 

Amaya and Jae Chan were still arguing about which one of them should take over the ‘uplifting’ role as they went back inside the castle to finish packing their things, and Haneul felt an arm around her shoulder, and saw Cara appear beside her. 

“They’re like a married couple, sometimes.” She said, looking in the direction of the other two. She was smiling in a tender, and loving way.

“Jealous, are we?” Haneul smirked and raised an eyebrow, feeling more normal than she had since O.W.Ls had finished. 

“Me? Not at all. Jae Chan is good-looking, and nice, but he’s not a girl. So I’ll always have that advantage.” She seemed to study Haneul’s face.

“What’s your agenda?” Haneul asked her.

“Are  _ you _ jealous?” Cara asked. 

“Why should I be jealous?”

“I don’t know, I just know, because I’m not stupid, what it looks like when one person fancies another person. And while  _ you _ are very good at hiding things, he’s not. So I was just…”

“I don’t think he fancies me. And it doesn’t matter if he does, because I don’t.” She replied, firmly. 

“He  _ does _ . He doesn’t look at Amaya the same way he looks at you.”

“And how, exactly, does he look at me?”

“Like… As if he’s admiring something, and like he’s holding back.” She chuckled to herself. “But I see now that my theory was wrong.”

“What theory?”

“Well, I thought you were… lovesick, or something.” Cara admitted. 

“Lovesick?” Haneul turned more pointedly to Cara. “Have you ever even met me?”

Cara shrugged. “I don’t read people that well. But I wondered, if back in September, when you were all foggy and distant, you were actually just falling in love with Jae Chan, but you didn’t want to say anything, because you were worried he didn’t feel the same.”

Haneul shook her head, feeling disbelief. “I thought you were  _ smart _ .”

She grinned. “At least now you know, that the most attractive boy in our year is probably pining for you.”

“I highly doubt that he is pining for anyone, except his little brother.” Haneul shot back. 

“Listen, I know what it’s like, to fancy someone and not say anything for a while, I’ve been through it. Don’t underestimate me, or my ability to recognize what that looks like.” She paused for a moment. “So, if you weren’t lovesick, what  _ was _ wrong with you back then.”

Haneul took in a breath, and wished she could answer. “You’ll have to keep wondering about that. Or rather, don’t keep wondering, because I think you’ll stay disappointed.”

“Is it a shame then, that I have many theories?” 

“Probably, because I’m not likely to tell you that you’re right or wrong.”

“Well.” Cara began, impressively. “I thought about this extensively, all on my own. I’ve never bounced these theories off any of the others.” She cleared her throat. “I thought that perhaps your mother got married, or that someone close to you died, that you found out who your dad is, or that you learned something very shocking about one of us. I’m still afraid you know all my deep, dark secrets.” She said that last sentence lightly enough. 

In another time, Haneul would have displayed herself loudly upon her face. But she was so prepared to be impassive, and her mind so closed that she naturally did not react. Mastery of a skill that she had already innately had the predisposition for had come, finally, because she did not have to think about how to layer certain thoughts away, and she did not feel a stab of fear of being found out. Even though Cara had had one completely correct hypothesis, that information did not flutter itself across Haneul’s face anymore. And so she was peaceful, perhaps not forever, but for now. 

“Perhaps, one day, I’ll be able to tell you if you’re right or wrong.” She said, looking up at the sun that shone in the cloudless sky through the large castle window, finding a certain serenity at how clear and fresh the sky was on that day at the end of June.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know what it is: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1hJCkEsQu_PovVLXtvDcqnX5ntdasgExV6TAcTHsR2uM/edit?usp=sharing


End file.
